In order to best tailor one, or several, hallucinogens into your gameday routine, it’s wise to examine the attendant effects of each drug and, once you’ve made up your mind, start putting your furniture on Craigslist in order to buy some. Because focus is a necessity, some narcotics are better than others. At the same time, you need something that’s going to block out the disjointed ravings of Tony Kornheiser.
Weed—Marijuana, obviously, will mellow your shit. Enough so that everything about the game becomes an enthralling spectacle. Even the playing field itself. The enchanting green. Look at it! So what if someone just ran a 75-yard triple reverse. That’s not a green found often in nature. While that’s great for games you’re not emotionally invested in, the paucity of homicidal rage will, even in your addled state, strike you as inappropriate. Grade: B, because it’s a tactile letter.
LSD/Cocaine/Heroin/Crack/PCP—You’re not very much interested in watching football if you’re taking any of these. Similar things you’re averse to doing include holding a job, not stabbing people for spare change, and living to see the next decade. At the same time, these can be appealing alternatives to watching the Raiders play. Grades: LSD: D; cocaine: even though it’s a helluva drug, C-; heroin: F; crack: D; PCP: F.
Lean—Unlike the Texans, this drug is very popular in the Houston area. A cocktail of cough syrup, cold medicine, alcohol, soda, and Jolly Ranchers, the ingredients seem as hastily cobbled together as the Chiefs’ starting lineup, and are of equally valuable materials. Grade: Heeeelll Yeeeeuh.
Construda—A mystical concoction whose properties are only known to those daring enough to try it and resourceful enough to obtain it, construda is said to be the most potent of fictional drugs invented by Laurence Maroney. Grade: the letter does not exist in the English alphabet.
Speed—Does the game not move fast enough for you, huh? Huh? Doesn’t it? What are those people doing? Why are they huddling? No huddle! No huddle! Why isn’t there more action? Oh man, the play clock is only at ten. This shit is moving at a glacial pace. I need action. C’mon, let’s do this! Grade: B+++++++++++++whyaren’ttheremoreplusses?!
Ecstasy/Ketamine/GHB—The game won’t make a lick of sense to you, but you’ll be awfully eager to give out that celebratory touchdown hug, as well as the lesser known first-down hug, weak-side-run-for-four-yards hug, pass-batted-down-by-a-lineman hug, inside-two-minutes-booth-review hug, and garbage-time-touchdown hug. Grade: K, because it’s special.
Meth/Quaaludes/OxyContin—Welcome to Tennessee Titans Nation! Make sure to keep your meth lab well stocked with nachos and fire extinguishers. Grade: C, because that’s as far as you got in the alphabet.
Paint Thinner/Varnish/Turpentine—Even if you failed to poison yourself to death, then you certainly blinded yourself, which is still preferable to watching a game between NFC West opponents. Grade: Backward G.
Booze—Still the standard-bearer of football intoxicants. It helps for yelling but also for hypersensitivity to the most meager slight to your team. Did that guy just clap for the other team getting a first down? Time to introduce his head to the bar railing. Grade: C+, B+ if you’re not drinking a crappy macrobrew that gets advertised during a football game.
III.6 Countries Most Likely to Cease Being Useless and Catch Football Fever
With all the regionalism that dominates football fandom (because rooting against another team also means carrying a deep-seated dislike for its home city), one would assume football fans must be wanton xenophobes who have no interest in sampling foreign culture. And unless you’re a fan of one of the teams from the AFC South, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
There’s nothing that exists within the mind of the fan that makes that person resistant to flights of wanderlust. Travel can be one of the finer off-season activities a fan can partake in. Thing is, what would make traveling abroad that much better would be if these misguided, hidebound foreigners would just wake the fuck up and accept that our sport is demonstrably better than anything they have going. It’s not much to ask, really.
The phenomenon of football fandom has taken hold better in some countries than others. Some have the potential to be brought around, while others remain defiantly irredeemable. These are things Lonely Planet doesn’t bother to tell you. Suppose you’re roped into a honeymoon or vacation in the middle of the season? Called out of the country on business? Maybe you still think you can hack it in a country without a football receptive culture. You’ve got the Internet, after all. And in a large cosmopolitan city, there’s bound to be one or two places willing to show the preferred athletic-related diversion of the oppressor. Sorry. Not that easy.
Even with your precious sports bars and Internet, consider the can of worms that awaits: Suppose you find a bar willing to show the game. The broadcast is either at a god-awful hour, depending on your time zone, or it is being shown on tape delay, which forces you to avoid looking up the score on the Internet until it’s aired. Make it to the appointed broadcast time, staving off long enough the overpowering urge to look up the score, and marvel at the setup you get stuck with: the smallest TV in the corner of a crowded bar where the other patrons are unconcerned with your objectively most important interests, the bastards. More annoying still are the foreigners who pretend to care about the game you’re watching.
Try to keep your composure as they divert your attention from the game with admissions that they don’t much understand how American football works and they’d like you to explain it to them. As an American, they don’t expect you to be polite, necessarily, though an elbow to the face might skew extreme on the scale of possible reactions.
England—The NFL has tried to push its appeal across the pond, first with the failed NFL Europe, now with annual regular season games in London. Whether that means a substantial uptick in interest from Brits remains to be seen. Given the NFL’s paucity of dry wit and advertisements on the field of play, it seems unlikely to take. Eagle fans, however, will feel right at home during soccer hooligan melees.
France—“Please, please, monsieur, the French have no time for your silly game for ruffians. Your continued outbursts are a disturbance to the riveting game of pétanque currently being played by six xenophobic old men in the street. Leave us in peace and go drool on your shoes elsewhere.”
Italy—Oh, wow. They have a siesta in the middle of the day, where businesses close and people go home to eat and rest. It’s so laid-back, it’s like how Randy Moss plays when he doesn’t think his team has a shot at the Super Bowl. In Italian culture, the number seventeen, instead of thirteen, is considered unlucky, which should make sense to any Panthers fan.
Canada—Why not just go to an adjacent city? Or a grocery store? For all the difference in culture you’re getting in the Great White North, if you’re not scoring cheap drugs you’re wasting the gas. They do have a football league of their own, in which twelve guys named the Roughriders vie for a title in the Grey Cup, which still sounds like a hockey trophy. They do have a partial stake in the Bills, which is almost an NFL team.
Argentina—The Argentinian penchant for massive beef consumption will surely please any football fan, though the country’s mania for soccer and hidden Nazis will not. Convincing residents of the NFL’s virtues isn’t an impossible task, so long as you can convince them that Diego Maradona is actually the Chargers’ Luis Castillo. (Fact: About the same weight.)
Brazil—If you’re able to pull one of the insanely hot women the country is famous for, you just might be lulled into swearing off everything you hold dear in your life. That’s the danger of visiting a place as seductive as Brazil. That or getting kidnapped and having your organs harvested by a Rio street gang. One or the other.
Netherlands—Gee, wonder what it is that brings you to Holland. The quaint windmills? The undeniable lure of clogs? I think we both know it’s the Anne Frank House. And the legal marijuana is nice too. But is that such a huge deal? Is weed really that difficult to acquire in the U.S.? If someone as dumb as
Nate Newton can get his hands on more than two hundred pounds of it, my answer would be no.
Africa—Yes, I lumped all of Africa into one monolithic entity, while taking the time to individually list several predominantly white countries. Because I’m culturally biased like that. I had to learn it from somebody. Hurl the charges of insensitivity at society, not me. I love Christian Okoye, but do they? So if there are no study programs in most of Africa, how did you end up there, anyway? That means…waitaminnnute! You joined the Peace Corps, didn’t you? That entails sacrificing years of your life to help the dispossessed and generally be a force for good in the world. You bastard! Way to make us all feel like selfish assholes. That’s self-examination I do not need. It’s enough to make me puke.
Russia—Instead of the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field, visit the actual frozen tundra of Siberia. There, you’re just as likely to stumble upon something approaching civilization. A dour people, Russians could be persuaded to latch onto perpetually miserable fan bases, like those of the Lions or Bengals.
China—Though the Chinese have little interest in the actual sport of football, they are indeed intrigued by the authoritarian manner in which the league is run. In particular, Redskins owner Dan Snyder is an unlikely popular figure in the country for his success at cramming as many seats into FedEx Field as is physically possible. For a country with a severe overpopulation problem, these are critical management skills.
India—Conditioned to enjoy Bollywood entertainment, the people of India appreciate the choreographed dance numbers that NFL cheerleaders put on. However, at an average length of roughly three hours, Indians find football games far, far too brief for their tastes.
Israel—Dangerous? Absolutely. But suicide bombs can add a dash of Middle Eastern flare to any victory riot. Looming peril aside, football’s presence in the Holy Land is on the rise. Patriots owner Bob Kraft recently became the official sponsor of the Israeli Football League, meaning there should be no shortage of cameras to capture the action. Given his success rebuilding the fortunes of his own franchise, Israeli teams should have more fans than the Cardinals, Jaguars, and Texans by the printing of this publication.
Japan—In the Land of the Rising Sun, NFL games start at 1:00 a.m., as Sunday turns to Monday. One might argue that’s a small price to pay to be in a country full of vending machines carrying underage girls’ panties and tentacle porn. And they’d be right.
Australia—A right stubborn lot, the Aussies went to the trouble of developing their own set of rules for the game of football. Just who do they think they are? Listen, you incredibly lighthearted, charming, sunny people, just because you committed four soldiers to the war effort in Iraq doesn’t mean we’re going to stand idly by and let you impose whatever perverted rules you want onto the game of football. Some things transcend the bonds of allies, you know. And next time, please send us a slightly less mincy, less-musical-theater-friendly actor to play Wolverine.
III.7 Land a Football-Related Job
Sans extraordinary athletic talent, there’s obviously no hope for you making it in the NFL. Somehow that eight-minute 40 time didn’t blow away the college scouts when you were in high school. Instead you’ll have to plan for another field of work that doesn’t require exemplary physical skill. Something like the UFL.
But the NFL can still be a calling even to the athletically disinclined. With numerous professions on the periphery of the sport, being involved with the league in some capacity is within your grasp.
AGENT
Pro: Extremely lucrative profession, though available only to those who’ve forfeited their soul. Not only encourages but requires you to disregard the internal sniveling nag you call a conscience.
Con: Entails going to law school or getting some other advanced degree in the field of sports management. Must also carry out three mandates of Satan’s choosing.
BROADCASTER
Pro: High-profile profession. With the always ballooning size of pregame roundtables, there’s little chance you’ll ever be unable to find work. The public’s expectations of your performance are set very low thanks to the work of your colleagues.
Con: High-shitshow-quotient profession. The steady stream of banalities that one is forced to utter may be germane to the job, but will turn your brain to mush and your heart to a blackened, viscous stew. Worst of all, you may be forced to converse with Joe Buck.
COACH
Pro: Exerting a strong influence over what happens on the field. Your meltdowns in front of the media will be recycled into unfunny Coors Light commercials, possibly earning you royalties.
Con: Having to get your start at some D-III school in bumfuck nowhere. Living under constant scrutiny. Getting approximately thirty-three seconds each year to relax. Basically being unhappy and ulcerous all the time.
REFEREE
Pro: Can alter the outcome of an NFL game in dramatic, controversial ways. Ample chances to make a killing by accepting bribes.
Con: Can be forced to have your mind on matters other than the game. An NFL official is only a part-time job because the league is retarded and wants to ensure none of the referees devote that much time to their profession and are therefore incompetent.
GROUNDS CREW
Pro: End-zone paint is a little-known hallucinogen.
Con: Blame will be heaped on you when clumsy receiver trips over his own feet. Doing your job at Heinz Field is equivalent to being the one man assigned to guard the U.S.-Mexico border.
PRINT JOURNALIST
Pro: Laziness is not only encouraged but rewarded. Interviewing famous athletes is an integral part of your daily routine. So too is gorging at the press room buffet.
Con: You’ll be despised, scorned, and likely threatened by those same athletes. Any news you break will never be credited by ESPN. So it’s pretty much a miserable existence that will be thankfully truncated when you’re laid off in the next round of newsroom staff cuts.
BALL BOY
Pro: It’s the next step up from water boy. Allowed to stand on the sidelines and look important, which is about as much as Scott Linehan ever did.
Con: Not so much a career. The job also tends to go to kids. At some point, every ball boy gets slapped by a player. Even Nick Lowery, a kicker, got in on the action once.
ACCOUNTANT
Pro: Bean-counting is so much sexier when the beans are football-shaped.
Con: Issuing audits to companies that improperly use NFL insignias makes you more of a tool than most accountants.
SECURITY GUARD
Pro: Ability to bust skulls with impunity. Only requires a degree in being burly.
Con: You could get stuck on Pacman Jones bodyguard detail.
SPORTS SURGEON
Pro: Manages to be lucrative without all the cumbersome moral baggage that the agent job comes with. Get to stick a knife into Tom Brady’s knee free of consequence.
Con: Requires a decade or so of schooling. And always living in the shadow of Dr. James Andrews.
TEAM DOCTOR
Pro: Able to brag to friends that you were the one to give steroids to Shawne Merriman and painkillers to Brett Favre.
Con: Testifying before Congress during steroid witch hunts can be burdensome. Especially if you make the mistake of meeting Charles Schumer’s malocchio.
SPORTS PSYCHOLOGIST
Pro: No one really knows what it is you do or whether it’s even helpful, but they respect it.
Con: You don’t even know what you do.
GUY WHO DRIVES THE INJURY CART
Pro: Affords close proximity to NFL players, if only when they’re horribly mangled. Plus, you get to drive a cart. Essentially the perfect job.
Con: Might need some special class of cart license or something.
III.8 Root for Your Team from Afar
Moving to the territory of another team will obviously mean putting up with their fans every day of your suddenly miserable life. Factoring in the expense of the occasional vandalization of your home i
nto the household budget is to be an immediate consideration.
Surpassingly popular teams, like the Cowboys, Steelers, Giants, and Packers have pockets of fans in every market, which goes a long way toward explaining why these fans are universally thought of as the most annoying. You could burrow into the deepest subterranean morlock colony and there’d be a Cowboys fan holed up in there claiming that Michael Irvin never pushed off a defensive back in his life.
The truth of the matter is that every fan base is annoying to those who are not members of it. For followers of the aforementioned nationally prominent teams, convening with their fellow fans is simply a matter of tracking down the bar where they congregate to watch games. Others don’t have it quite so easy. In fact, to walk around in a Texans jersey is to be stared at like you were some kind of freakish oddity, as though you were wearing a garment made of syphilitic penises. Which is weird, because everybody knows that’s what Bills jerseys are made of.
Since you’re now separated from the core of your fan base, any time the team visits your adopted city (or comes within three hundred miles) it’s your solemn obligation to make it to the game. They need you to be the drowned-out voice of praise amongst an overwhelming chorus of hate. As you might expect, the experience of the fan at an opponent’s stadium is a drastically different one from being at the home field. Bottles of urine will be hurled at you, for starters.
Consider the venue. There are some stadia, stadia located in certain cities in the southeast corner of Pennsylvania, where it is unadvisable to root for the visiting team. Not that it’s necessarily bad form, but because you’ll be left for dead in a portable toilet and rolled down a hill.
Don’t go overboard with gloating. One wave of your genitalia to opposing fans per half should be sufficient—only when your team is ahead, of course. Otherwise it’s just garden-variety indecent exposure.
The Football Fan's Manifesto Page 6