This Sunday I will keep my record intact and not watch the Super Bowl for the tenth year in a row. It’s not that I have anything against either the Denver Broncos or the Seattle Seahawks, but I have a tough time getting all excited about something that is so overhyped that the game itself becomes nearly an afterthought.
The same goes for the Olympics. Setting aside the homophobia and genuine concern about safety in Sochi, it’s so hard to actually see anything resembling a sporting competition at the games without it having been tweaked and peaked to a level that would make a drag queen blush. The only thing I’ll watch will be the opening ceremony, and that’s because some good friends are hosting their Olympic feast. They do this every two years with dishes from the host country. I’m expecting to be treated to some delicious borscht and blini.
Am I the only one who’s being a grumble-bunny about these two monumental paeans to the meth-like combination of sports and consumerism?