Necessary Roughness

Necessary Roughness, Pre-Super Bowl: OK, I Finally Realized There Was Already a Successful TV Show Called “Necessary Roughness”


Necessary Roughness with Gwar's Dave Brockie

Greetings, sports fans. Pathetic as it is, the Pro Bowl came and went. And few cared. I’m not even sure who won! For those of us whose teams have gone down in flames already, which is everybody except San Francisco and Baltimore fans, the Pro Bowl gives us one last chance to see our team’s helmet on a playing field, and it really is the most pathetic thrill in sports, one that I enjoyed at a bar. It’s no wonder I was drinking my way through the Pro Bowl. Sports news has been so nauseating lately that after the sickening sound of RG III’s ripping tendons the Pro Bowl was almost too much to take. Especially when you hear people lining up to criticize the thing… get rid of it, etc. First of all why would they get rid of it? They makes tons of money from it. Second of all it’s for kids, it’s not a real football game. It’s like criticizing The Hobbit, or Christmas. It’s not a real movie. It’s not even a real holiday! It’s for kids. They like it. I like kids, except when they are like those kids in Lord of the Flies, or at least the mean one that killed Piggy.  Let them live in their dream world as long as they can. It won’t be long before their minds are blasted from their skulls by the vision of Lance Armstrong hanging upside down from some kind of medieval blood-draining rack, vampire bats flapping all around him. Or a naked Ray Lewis dumping his blood-drenched white tuxedo deep in a Georgia swamp.

Sorry, I digress. This column was hard enough to write when there were tons of games going on, and now that’s there’s only one it’s impossible! The Super Bowl is gonna be a great game… surely one team will prevail… uh, win. Ray Lewis is an asshole. It’s horrible. We don’t even have the Geico Caveman anymore, and that lip-stinker Beyonce is the halftime show. It’s just too much… I can’t watch.

It’s not because I don’t want to watch, I do! The only reason I am bitching is that I just found out I am flying home from a wrestling engagement on Sunday, and am going to actually be in the air during the game! Isn’t that a boner. Now I can’t watch Ray “Murderer” Lewis go crazy about how God helped him run with a ball and also stab two dudes repeatedly. But I am sticking with my pick of the 49’ers if for no other reason than that they are not murderers, and that they are the only NFL team to incorporate both numbers and letters into their names. That kind of raw, crazy creativity is what we have come to expect from California, especially a town as METAL as SF! And plus, they have such great drugs. Everybody in California is high all the time and I am always just whacked out of my brain when I am there. Plus, as a Skins fan (racist name and all), I can’t root for the Ravens; we hate them. Love Baltimore (see, I’ve learned…)! Love crabcakes! Love that show The Wire. Hate the Ravens. Respect the Ravens! They will kick your ass, that’s for sure. Love the fuck out of some Baltimore crab cakes. Love that chick with the plate in her lip I used to bang by the ice-machine at Hammerjacks.

Hmmm…what else? Not much to write about really. I could go on about how Ray Lewis is a murderer. But everybody has already. It’s enough to make you feel sorry for sportscasters. I mean sure, they get paid, but at the end of the day they must know that they are trafficking with idiots. It’s just like seeing life as something for the young, seeing it for the first time from the other side, the side that is slipping into decay and death and Alzheimer’s and teeth falling out and huge dental bills that I can’t even begin to pay. But there is hope. It’s almost over — no, not my life, though sometimes I wish it was — I mean the SEASON is almost over, which means I can quit pretending to care about things I don’t care about, and get back to pretending that I am a rubber monster from outer space.

Enough of my sour grapes. It’s starting to smell like wine-farts in here. I’m sure that if RG III’s leg hadn’t got ripped in half and if the Skins (racist name and all) were in the Super Bowl (like that would ever happen) I’d be just as happy as any Niners or Ravens fan. Enjoy it! I am also sure that if I actually got to see the game I wouldn’t have spent this whole column pissing and moaning. I am well aware that nobody gives a shit! But as it stands I am not only going to miss the game but also the awesome Super Bowl party that Derks throws every year, featuring over-sized Jenga. I hope your Super Bowl is better than mine, the first one I have ever missed. Goddamit I am so fucking filled with hate I am just gonna stay in tonight and watch Turner Classic Movies, boy, that was when they really knew how to make movies, they didn’t have all of this computer trickery and digital douchery, they actually had to write good stories. And M.Night Sham-la-Spam-a-ham can eat a bowl of dick, his movies suck, I knew Bruce Willis was dead in the first five minutes of 6th Sense. Go Niners.

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