This ‘Girls Guide to Faking Interest In Sports’ Article Is Driving People Batshit Crazy
This is a pretty easy one: It’s 2015. Women love sports. Fans, writers, and broadcasters alike. They all love them. Men do too. This is not a difficult concept to comprehend, yet here we are again with another stupid, condescending article that assumes women must feign interest in sports, so as to win the heart that feverishly pumps blood into the penis they’re seeking.
Attention sought. So attention it is. Let’s take a look at this mess.
Knowing sports gives you cred as a cool chick with a large percentage of men. In September, when a store clerk asked me who I thought would win the Hawks/Packers game, I replied, “The Pack doesn’t lose at Lambo.” (Predictably, the Seahawks suffered a double-digit loss that week.) I can connect with sandwich artists, bartenders, and people on the bus because I know football.
“Lambo.” Just gonna leave that right there. Anyway, making it a point to know sports so it appears you actually know sports and want to know sports is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
Do you want to expand your horizons when it comes to dateable men? Here’s my seven-point action plan. First, find a TV-based ball sport you can tolerate or—maybe—even like. Absent a new NBA franchise, that means the Seahawks, Mariners, or Sounders. Then belly up to the bar. You will not meet anyone while giggling in a booth with a gaggle of girls.
Jesus. I must repeat: “Find a TV-based ball sport.” Even bowling is a fucking TV-based sport. Again, what year is it? Where am I? This is thoroughly depressing. If this is what it’s come to in your life in order to meet a dude that might date you, the game is already long over. Now please punt yourself into an unhinged, sports-loathing volcano.
Second, educate yourself. Read. I recommend the sports/humor website Deadspin.
Sure. Go to Deadspin within the next 24 hours and you might very well find a post ripping this stupid piece to shreds. What a beautiful circle.
A friend recently summed it up thusly: “It is all about knowing when to cheer and when to be quiet.” For example, the last two minutes of a Hawks [Seahawks] game will seldom only be 120 seconds. During this time, DO NOT SPEAK.
Then there’s this lovely snippet. Women are not the only ones being typecast in this memorable screed. Everyone got maimed.
So, ladies, my advice is to not compete with their precious Sunday-afternoon sports and TV rituals. If you can’t embrace it as a shared pastime, there’s the museum, a matinee, or the mall. Where you will find precisely zero single, dateable men.
NOTE: If this is supposed to be satire, there’s no mention of it anywhere. Yet another fucking fail.
[via Seattle Weekly]