It’s hockey playoff time, which means that of late I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time with my ass planted in front of the television. That also means more commercials, more junk food, and of course, more sports commentary. What do these three things have in common? When taken in excess, they all make me kind of queasy.
I’m not trying to sound curmudgeonly, since the fact is that I actually enjoy all of these things. There’s nothing wrong with a heaping plateful of disgusting nachos, or a commercial full of office monkeys. And though they’re generally pretty annoying, there’s a certain attraction to listening to sportscasters as they drone on about meaningless crap in order to keep things moving along. In fact, I find it kind of impressive.
I imagine that, in a lot of ways, being a sportscaster is like going on the same awkward first date over and over and over again. No matter how dull a game is, how much time is spent waiting on equipment repairs or instant replays, the sportscaster has to find something—anything—to fill in the voids. It’s a lot like two people out to dinner for the first time, nervously scrambling to make conversation for fear that a single moment of silence might make them acknowledge what an awful time they’re having. Sure, a duo of sportscasters has more to talk about than you might with that girl you met at Red Lobster (aside from your common love of Lobsterfest, or course), but the pressure to keep the banter going is still there. Where you might go on with too-long stories about your cat’s food preferences (and they are too long), sportscasters tell gut-wrenching tales about how the quarterback’s mother broke her finger in a surfing accident. Nothing against cats or elderly surfers, but in neither case do I really give a damn.
That’s not the only way sports broadcasts are like first dates. Like a guy trying to make a good first impression at dinner (and avoid awkward silences), commentators try to woo you with banter stuffed with wacky facts and stupid jokes. As a sports fan who has been responsible for many bad dates, I can tell you that this usually doesn’t work in either arena. Finding a girl who is genuinely dazzled by your encyclopedic knowledge of the life and times of Spiro Agnew (the only Greek vice president, you know!) is as likely as finding someone who can kick a 40-yard field goal in Green Bay in the month of December—something that, according to Monday Night Football’s inane statistics, happens very rarely.
In the same vein, sportscasters also use—and often misuse—the kinds of fancy words you might find in your Word of the Day email. It seems like each year a new one gets passed around sportscasters’ circles, and suddenly it’s everywhere. “Attrition” was popular last year, but “consternation” is very two-seasons-ago. And just the other day, a commentator described a game as “counter-opposite” (!!?!?), while another exchange went like this:
[Player looks pissed off about being assessed a penalty]
Commentator 1: He is incredulous about the call.
Commentator 2: And he’s not happy, either!
He certainly wasn’t.
As vapid as this kind of banter might be, it won’t stop me from watching. After all, it’s there for a reason, and it serves its purpose well: just like the stupid things we say on a first date, I know that all this mind-numbing chit chat is only meant to keep things rolling until someone finally scores.
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