I'm a basketball fan poser. I will admit that fully without any hesitation or shame. My heart is split between hockey and football, and just like in the Harry Potter novels, the more times it rips in two, the harder my life becomes (major, major nerd points for that one).
It may seem strange, considering I come from a state with arguably (or factually, depending on where you're from) the largest, most heated and deep rooted college basketball rival in the world. Naturally I grew up cheering for the Louisville Cardinals men's team, and the Tennessee women's team. I went to several games of both. Having Pat Summitt sign my copy of her autobiography was one of the top ten moments of my childhood. Once they were a respectable team, I cheered for the Tennessee men as well. Occasionally I even cheered for the Louisville women, recognizing girls I'd seen in the gym from my days at Louisville volleyball camp.
Whatever.
It's never been that I didn't understand the game, or even truly enjoy watching it. I've converted my significant other (although he'd never admit it) to cheering for the Cards through forced weekend watching. I went to my first game at the new, gorgeous YUM! center this year, sitting in the third row of the student's section and cheering on my team while my friends flirted with frat boys. I'm dedicated to the teams I love, but not the sport itself.
That's why, when filling out my obligatory NCAA tournament bracket, I had Tennessee and Louisville in the National Championship, with the Cards taking home the trophy. Laugh all you want. I'm not an idiot, I just don't care enough about the sport to watch anyone but "my" schools play. If I'm going to cheer on anyone, it's going to be my boys. And I put my money where my mouth is.
Did I honestly believe either of them would make it that far? Like I said, I'm not an idiot. Did I predict Louisville going out first round to the educational joke of the state (behind the University of Kentucky, of course) MOREHEAD!? Absolutely not. Come on. This is a school where the frat stars strut around campus wearing shirts with "I <3 MORE HEAD" printed on the front (There's a space! It changes the name of the college to a request for additional sexual activity! Get it? GET IT!??).
Whatever.
As if I haven't lost all basketball credibility enough by admitting my complete lack of interest in watching anyone but my own team play, I didn't even get to watch Tennessee or Louisville play in the tournament. I was in class both times checking the scores on my phone.
At this point my only involvement with the Final Four is sending good vibes to whoever is playing Kentucky and staying away from Facebook during game time as to avoid the redneck, incoherent bragging of idiot UK fans.
Whatever.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Future is a Scary, Scary Place
There's an old episode of Friends where Joey is listening to a radio broadcast of a Giants game on a big, clunky, portable radio at a funeral.
In a perfect world, Friends would still be on the air. If the same classic comedic situation were in an episode today, I'd imagine it would be slightly different. Joey would be watching his New York Giants live on an iPad, interrupted by ads every 30 seconds.
In a perfect future, Friends would be on the air 30 years from now. An aged Joey would probably be watching your New York Green Giants on an iPadXI, live in 3D, with interactive custom advertising pitching him his favorite brands.
The sports world is constantly changing. Most notably, the way we interact with sports is changing. From the live game experience to the way we interact from our couches at home, the relationship between fan and team has evolved in the last 30 years - and will likely continue to evolve for the next 30.
If we were to somehow capture the overall picture of sports today, put it all in a time capsule, and bury it for 30, opening it in the year 2041 and looking back would be laughable.
In 2041, advertisements and sponsorships will consume every single aspect of professional sports. If you thought the New York Red Bulls were taking it too far, give it a few years. We'll have the Chase Chicago Bears playing the American Express Indianapolis Colts. Chad Ochicinco will be looked at as a pioneer of name changing to boost ones' career. Except, instead of players turning a surname into a number, we'll have players selling the rights to their last name to the highest bidder. Suddenly, there will be a lot more Mr. and Mrs. Nike and McDonald's running around.
Athletes won't just be influenced by their sponsors. The taboo of performance enhancing drugs will be a thing of the past. The latest, greatest injectables will be shot into the body of every athlete, creating teams of superhuman MonStars a la Space Jam. Sure, they'll all die before they're 40, but they'll look damn good for the two decades they're in the spotlight.
The prices we're willing to pay for prime coverage of our favorite sports will go through the roof. Cable and satellite package options will explode, as every professional team has a 24-hour news channel at its disposal. Don't worry though, actual live games won't be broadcast on these channels. They'll be over saturated with live streams of players' Tweets and twitpics of their latest adventure on their private jet. As for ACTUAL games? They'll still be limited to the multi-billion dollar contracts fought over by the big four empire channels.
If over dramatic future-predicting fiction is anywhere near what the actual future of sports will look like, count me out. I'll be more than willing to be the old geezer (at the ancient age of 50) rambling on about the "good 'ole days" and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.
In a perfect world, Friends would still be on the air. If the same classic comedic situation were in an episode today, I'd imagine it would be slightly different. Joey would be watching his New York Giants live on an iPad, interrupted by ads every 30 seconds.
In a perfect future, Friends would be on the air 30 years from now. An aged Joey would probably be watching your New York Green Giants on an iPadXI, live in 3D, with interactive custom advertising pitching him his favorite brands.
The sports world is constantly changing. Most notably, the way we interact with sports is changing. From the live game experience to the way we interact from our couches at home, the relationship between fan and team has evolved in the last 30 years - and will likely continue to evolve for the next 30.
If we were to somehow capture the overall picture of sports today, put it all in a time capsule, and bury it for 30, opening it in the year 2041 and looking back would be laughable.
In 2041, advertisements and sponsorships will consume every single aspect of professional sports. If you thought the New York Red Bulls were taking it too far, give it a few years. We'll have the Chase Chicago Bears playing the American Express Indianapolis Colts. Chad Ochicinco will be looked at as a pioneer of name changing to boost ones' career. Except, instead of players turning a surname into a number, we'll have players selling the rights to their last name to the highest bidder. Suddenly, there will be a lot more Mr. and Mrs. Nike and McDonald's running around.
Athletes won't just be influenced by their sponsors. The taboo of performance enhancing drugs will be a thing of the past. The latest, greatest injectables will be shot into the body of every athlete, creating teams of superhuman MonStars a la Space Jam. Sure, they'll all die before they're 40, but they'll look damn good for the two decades they're in the spotlight.
The prices we're willing to pay for prime coverage of our favorite sports will go through the roof. Cable and satellite package options will explode, as every professional team has a 24-hour news channel at its disposal. Don't worry though, actual live games won't be broadcast on these channels. They'll be over saturated with live streams of players' Tweets and twitpics of their latest adventure on their private jet. As for ACTUAL games? They'll still be limited to the multi-billion dollar contracts fought over by the big four empire channels.
If over dramatic future-predicting fiction is anywhere near what the actual future of sports will look like, count me out. I'll be more than willing to be the old geezer (at the ancient age of 50) rambling on about the "good 'ole days" and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.
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