The weather outside is frightful, but . . .

By the time this is read the holiday season will have officially kicked off. The Detroit Lions will have played in yet another Thanksgiving Day ‘classic? (as defined by professional football promoters, not the general viewing public) football game. Turkey left overs will be fried, ground, slabbed, stabbed, cut, sliced and diced in any number of ways.
Let the good time roll, baby. Christmas is just around the corner. And, I for one am glad. I am one of those suckers who actually enjoyed listening to holiday music on the radio prior to Thanksgiving. To all those commentators who bemoaned the early arrival of the holiday season; whose sense of self were demeaned in someway by holiday music I say — Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and may all your Kwaanza’s be bright.
We all could used some a little good will.
Good will — you know that abstract thought absent at the Smackdown at The Palace. The Thrilla in the Hillas goes to show some folks are just wound way too tight.
Obviously, there was some alcohol abuse going on in Auburn Hills when the Detroit Pistons basketball team hosted them thar Pacers from Indiana. Come on, who in their right mind would throw a beer away? A beer which cost the better part of ten bucks. And, to throw it at somebody you are ‘mad? at is worse. At least throw in the general direction of a friend, so he could open his mouth and catch some . . .
For goodness sakes . . . is it surprising this happened? Jennie, the gal who puts up with me everyday without stabbing me while I sleep, hit the nail on the head when she said, ‘Each week sports is played up as this big fight. It’s promoted as a grudge match between this team and that. It’s about pride. The athletes are ‘warriors.? The game’s not a game — it’s a ‘war.? The stakes are always high. With all that and testosterone and alcohol mixed in, what do you expect??
Hmmm? I don’t know . . . maybe to watch a really good game of basketball, full of skilled play, hustle, hard work, self sacrifice.
Of course the hot tempers, flying fists and bleeped out words are entertaining, too.
Sporting events, while not exactly the opiate of the people, are a good way to blow off steam. Somewhere way down in the genetic makeup of men, there is a need for competition. There’s a need to match yourself up against an adversary to prove your masculinity. There comes a time when you need to growl and bare your teeth. Women must understand this. We cannot help it. We’re hard-wired that way. Competition is good. And, sense not all men are endowed equally by their creator, some get to play sports their entire life. Some even get to be extremely wealthy by playing sports professionally.
The rest of us watch — living vicariously through our ‘heroes.?
So, is it any wonder that fans would imitate thugs on the court? There had to come a time when these two worlds collided. While the weather outside was getting frightful, it was nothing compared to the humanity displayed by a few boneheads at a basketball game the other night.
In my book, the holiday season could not have come sooner. So what if I haven’t completed (Did I write completed? The operative word should have been ‘started.?) my Christmas shopping. I dig this time of year.
Bring on the smaltzy music. Give me dozens of television commercials where everybody happily buys stuff for other folks. Let the world revel in the spirit of giving . . . and while we’re at it, lets give the aforementioned stars of ‘The Brawl? some bells, red kettles, long white beards and have them don Santa suits.
Let’s find a good street corner where they can stand every night for the entire holiday season. Let ’em collect for the needy and then let them, in person, give to the needy. Let them who play pro ball or can afford to attend a pro ballgame see the other side of the street.
Ah. I feel better. Now, let’s get back to some good old-fashioned Christmas caroling!
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