The sports fanatic
Comments(0)Here’s a type sketch I wrote for my English class. Although some of it is based on people I know, the details have been highly exaggerated. Without further adieu:
“Did you see the big game last night?” Why is it always “the big game?” To the sports fanatic, there is no small game, only the next big game which he has to speculate about for days before it happens. Worse still, he carries on his monotonous analyzing for days after the game, or until his favorite team has to play the next “big game.” Of course, sometimes his favorite team isn’t playing any game, but that won’t stop this fanatic. If all he has to work with is a game between his two most hated teams, he’ll support one of them – anything to keep him from doing something valuable with his time.
No one can tell the sports fanatic that he’s wasting his time. That will only prolong the suffering. Completely offended by the thought that anybody could have anything bad to say about his favorite sport, he’ll ramble for forty minutes about cultural heritage, the need for competition, and some other random thing that “everybody ought to know” about sports. Eventually, after being driven to the brink of insanity by his rambling, his victim has to admit, however untrue it may be, that he agrees with the fanatic. Happy with his victory, the fanatic will ramble for another hour about the big game that he was trying to talk about earlier, before he was interrupted by harsh accusations.
The close of whatever sports season he was following doesn’t bring any end to his agonizing rambling. Baseball, football, soccer, hockey, and others are all on his list to make sure that he doesn’t have any bit of time to spend on anything useful. Just as the end of one sports season starts to quell his ramblings, the start of another revives them in full force.
No matter what the sport, he’s there ready to give his “expert” opinion on all the athletes and teams. If asked about a team, he’ll know exactly what their score will be in any game. It doesn’t matter what any professional sports analyst thinks, because the fanatic is so much smarter than any of them. When asked about his favorite team, he will spend hours joyfully describing statistics and players, showing all of his memorabilia, and telling about each players history in detail that would bore even the player’s own mother to death.
The worst thing to do is to ask him about his favorite player. He’ll tell not only about the player’s long and very boring life, his achievements, and “highlights” of his career that are greater in number than the games he’s actually played.
The sports fanatic will also tell of how he waited in line for four hours to get a signature and of how he spent thousands of dollars to buy the player’s used jersey on Ebay. He will tell tales of such wasteful idol worship that the stomach cringes at the thought of having to spend one more second with him. Any victim, no matter how interested they were in the sport when they started talking to the fanatic, will run in terror after being driven to the brink of insanity.
