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Oct. 31, 2005 I watch TV sparingly. In fact if there is not a football, baseball or hockey game being aired I won’t turn it on at all. OK, let me clarify that. There was a time not long ago when I’d go all day plinking away at a laptop, rarely even looking up. For some reason that did not sit well with my wife. She had the notion that I would, ideally, pay attention to her at least once a day. The truth is that she was quite adamant on the issue (to say the least.) She works an oddball sort of schedule, and so is home at various times of day during the week. So I try and work around it. Naturally, this being the age and time we live in, a fair amount of our ‘we time’ is spent in front of the boob tube. After an hour or so the news channels start to repeat themselves. Fortunately this always corresponds with the turning of the tide. In other words…Surf’s up! Barring any athletic contests, my secondary programming of choice is the History Channel. My wife does not share my enthusiasm for the ignorance of man. Neither did my first wife, who referred to it as, "The Hitler Channel." I guess she did have a point. So it’s on to other things. From THC it’s straight to ESPN in case I get lucky. Things that strike me as odd tend to stick in my mind, so some of the ‘events’ that network has started to cover hit me like a tour through an Inquisition dungeon. There is a fine line somewhere between ‘games’ and ‘sport.’ I’d say that it is completely subjective, and open to interpretation. For me it comes somewhere on the south side of bowling, but well north of billiards. The word ‘billiards’ lends dignity to a popular game oft times practiced by men and women whose radiators are filled with the well-known coolant alcohol. In a typical establishment featuring one or more of the long green tables the word ‘billiards’ will get you nothing more than odd looks. Say the word ‘pool’ though, and you will have a game in a matter of seconds. Don’t get me wrong now, I don’t want my e-mail ringing off the hook. I have spent hours upon hours playing the game myself. I enjoy it immensely. However, I cannot recall ever having to endure ‘2 a days’ featuring endless grass drills in 90 degree August heat to prepare myself for it. The greatest amount of exertion I can remember is a number of ‘12 ounce curls.’ The same can be said, to a certain extent, for bowling. That pastime falls very close to, if not dead on the line, between sport and game to me. True, most of the pros stick to a daily exercise regime, and the tournaments can be grueling tests of endurance. Physical strength and stamina are a very large part of the game at that level. But for some reason a game that normally includes 5 seconds of exertion, followed by 5 minutes of beer drinking and cat calls, falls well short of other affairs where a 4.2 forty will virtually guarantee you several million dollars a year and your face on a cereal box. So OK, bowling is debatable. Pool to me however, holds less merit. For some reason the ability to sit on a barstool just doesn’t quite compare with the ability to count the stitches on a 95-mile an hour fast ball. I can appreciate the skills involved in most endeavors, and I have participated in virtually all of the common games, as well as most of the true sports (hunting, fishing, rock climbing etc) at one time or another in my life. But for the life of me I just cannot see the ‘sport’ in playing poker. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, the words ‘poker’ and ‘sport’ have never before cohabited in the same paragraph, never mind sentence, until ESPN aired the first match. I realize of course, that there is a considerable amount of skill and know-how involved. But what kind of training does it take to be a poker player? What do they do, sit on wooded benches to build up their butt muscles? Squeeze stress balls to work the card holding fingers? Or perhaps they use a piece of rouge treated leather to build a callous so their elbows don’t get sore from leaning on the table? Just when I thought ESPN had reached the maximum depth of their searching for saleable programming, I cruise by the channel one-day and find, of all things, a spelling bee. Now c o m e o n ! A spelling bee? That’s not even a game fer cryin out loud. Now I don’t know about you, but when I’m looking around, hoping to get lucky and catch one of Mario’s 130 mph slap shots, Junior standing up there, squinting into the lights and sweating while attempting to spell ‘flatulence’ just ain’t gonna get it. Yeah, I know that carpin about it here will get me about as far as a Yugo with 3 flat tires. I also know that as long as stuff like that continues to produce revenue for the network they will continue to schedule it. Contrary to what a lot of people think, outfits like ESPN could care less what Bob wants to watch. As long as they can show that X number of viewers tuned in for Mary Lou’s try at ‘constipation’ the advertisers will buy airtime. That’s all fine and well, but truth in advertising would seem to dictate a change to the acronym. How about Eastern (insert your favorite adjective here, explicitness are acceptable) Programming Network? Life goes on I suppose. But, being the strange fellow that I am, I can’t help but speculate on the outrage there would be if Billy were cut off in the middle of ‘Zimbabwean’ for the airing of "Heidi." ------------ About the author Keith Ian Middleton: was born in Portland OR., at age 6 his parents moved back to Upstate NY. where they had grown up. He spent most of his childhood on a farm and started working in sawmills upon graduation from high school. His natural design and engineering talents served him well and he made the rounds through several moves as a troubleshooter and hired gun with a number of lumber manufactures. Keith now resides and writes from Kentucky where he met and married his second wife. Email: kmiddle1957@yahoo.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com. Please link to this article rather than copying and pasting it onto your site (which would be unauthorized and illegal). |
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