Sports meditation

There is an overwhelming sense of security that comes from being a Georgia sports fan. The feeling that no matter what occurs, what highs may be achieved, what amount of buzz or hype bounces about radio, cable, and the internets, it will all end in tears. Just as sure as the sun will rise in the east every morning, the Georgia sports fan knows at the outset of every season that at some point the wheels are going to fall completely off and leave you where you are...alone, slack-jawed, and thinking about placing a pistol in your mouth. The only suspense left to us is how. How are the Braves, Falcons, Hawks, Dawgs going to fuck it up this year? What form of Job-like punishment is God going to make us endure now? Granted that last part was pure hyperbole as any true peach state fan has forsaken belief in an almighty years ago. Perhaps somewhere around the time Jamal Anderson tore his second ACL, but we can't be sure.

Atlanta fans in particular are the subject of national ridicule for arriving late and leaving early, if they show up at all. To that I would say that if you have already read the screenplay you don't need to stick around for the third act. And if you had to deal with Atlanta traffic you'd be late to everything too. The culture of victimhood is alive and well in the ATL, only without the doting adulation the media pours on Red Sox fans. Instead we suffer in silence, sans spotlight watching Bobby Cox go two or three knuckles deep mining for gold while the bullpen blows yet another three run lead.

Georgia football provides a classic example of this fatalism as you can set a watch by their season. It begins with a preseason ranking in the top 10, usually between 7-9. Then things start with a bang as the Dawgs roll over their opponents providing many "if Georgia can _____ then maybe _____" scenarios. Then comes the loss to either Tennessee or Florida, or both, knocking them from the BCS pantheon. Followed by one or two more losses down the line (usually not to Vandy but the Dawgs did an execptional job of shitting the bed this year) ending in an invitation to the Who the Fuck Cares Bowl (sponsored by Art's day spa and tire center) Where they will squeak out a win over East Fairbanks A&M and claim that this was a major step forward for the program.

The Bravos (AKA the place where washed-up Mexican league infielders go to die) did alter the script somewhat this year, as usually we have to wait for October before they swallow the hemlock. Nevertheless this season they had completely screwed the pooch by June, giving us the rest of the summer to contemplate the many ways the Falcons were going to disappoint us come fall.

The lone highlight for the Braves season was the Delta commercial where Jeff Francouer hit a home run ball to a saucer-eyed, tow-headed Braves fan in Denmark. Hmmm, a severely slumping ballplayer from a team trying to bask in long-faded glory serving as pitchman for a bankrupt airline showing Braves fans in places where people don't care about baseball. If that's not a metaphor what is?

The Hawks and Thrashers...ugh.

The Falcons at least made things interesting this year. Every week we would tune in watching the sidelines to see if Michael Vick had pulled a nine on Jim Mora. (Holding it sideways, gangsta style) The rest of the game, eh...not so much. Mora may be gone but there are no hard feelings, after all if I had to coach Michael Vick I would be thinking about the Huskies too. Nevertheless one should not blame Michael Vick for this season's shortcomings, after all he did set the single season record for rush yards by a Quarterback. Never mind the fact that the record he passed was his own, or that there are no other names on the list because rushing the ball is not what quarterbacks are supposed to do. Never mind that nobody on this team can throw a goddamn ball, just look at the fast man run!

The Dirty Birds are less a football team than a home for NFLers to come and cash a paycheck without having to worry about the pressure of things like playoffs or superbowls. After all it's not like Vick is blazing a new path (cough) Dieon (cough)

I have to give it to Arthur Blank though, poor thing actually believes he can take the Falcons to the Super Bowl, that's sweet. I think he is now realizing that compared to the task he has, Sisyphus had it easy, no wonder he's spending all his time at his aquarium!