I realise this is a brave position to take, but I think I hate the Olympic Games.
I don’t hate that they are on. I don’t hate that people from around the world come together ‘in the spirit of friendship’ to test their strength, stamina and skills. I don’t even hate that ‘The Games’ appear to be tainted more and more with issues of doping, potential terrorist attacks, and financial ruin for their host cities.
I do hate that The Games are broadcast EVERYWHERE – on multiple television and radio channels – CONTINUOUSLY and FOR TWO ENTIRE WEEKS. For the two weeks that The Games were on, the other stations that weren’t live streaming and then rehashing the day’s events continuously went into sleep mode, offering little of quality for two weeks (thank God for the ABC is all I can say), dropping their usual content because they obviously thought EVERYONE was tuned to THE GAMES.
It’s just not fair guys, it is WINTER here, and TV is the only satisfying after dinner activity. No, I don’t want to rug up and go for a refreshing walk, as one sports-crazy friend suggested. I don’t want to do anything except curl up in my jarmies in front of the box – get it!
What’s worse, I can’t even have a meal in a pub or the local Mexican restaurant without there being a huge screen in prime position before me. Although, as every silver cloud appears to have, there is a silver lining. Not having the TV on at night did mak for longer times spent at the dinner table enjoying each others’ company and conversation.
Some people can’t get enough of sport: if they are not doing it, they are watching it, listening to it, and talking about it. Many people have written that watching sport is good for us; we forget the worries of the world while focusing on what is described as wholesome, healthy activity. The Games are promoted as benefitting international relationships and for forgetting our differences, and for showing us the benefits of physical exercise.
For me, though, and you can call me a spoil sport, watching people waiting around for hours for that ‘one special moment’ when they will get to run, jump, dive, throw, leap or spring their hearts out for a pretty necklace, and listening to the monotone that claims to be commentary, is a form of slow death. Although, it is quite funny watching the embarrassed winners sporadically mouthing the words to their national anthems when they know the camera is directed their way.
Social scientists have argued that sporting events are part of a government plot to distract the masses from taking much notice of their appalling policies. This argument has merit, and this government can use all the help it can get.
In any case, give me a dose of Masterchef or a half-hour of of Family Feud fun, these are contests I can get into. At least they are fighting for something worthwhile, like an apprenticeship in George’s restaurant or a NEW CAR!!! What can you do with an ostentatious disc on a piece of ribbon? That’s kids’ stuff people.
So now The Games are over, the election is over – please, bring me an entree of normality on a platter of mediocrity, I just want my boring, predictable winter evenings back in front of the idiot box – at least till the warmer weather arrives.
Oh for goodness sake! Now it’s the football finals. When will it end?