A Former Fan’s Reflection on The End of Professional Sports

So the mighty Minnesota Lynx  won their fourth WNBA title in seven years.  They did it over at the University of Minnesota’s basketball area which is affectionately known hereabouts as “The Barn” due to it’s age and quirkiness (a raised court floor being one, it’s cramped and ungainly sight lines being another.

Because this is Wimyn’s Hoops the local media has been going gaga (not Lady-like; I couldn’t resist that pun, sorry) in a full-court press effort to achieve/demonstrate Gender Equity on the front and sports pages of the local fishwraps and in the lead stories on the television newsers.

That’s fine I guess, though truth be told I haven’t seen a wimyn’s basketball game since, oh, it’s gotta be circa 1980 when I got a free ticket the watch the late Minnesota Fillies tromp up and down the hardwood out at the lamentably long gone Metropolitan Sports Center (now home to Mall of America – bleech…).

Which brings us to the real reason for this post via the long and windy road: I think the NFL is goodly and truly hosed. And it’s just the tip of the proverbial berg of frozen dihydrogen monoxide.

Here’s why:

I was thinking about The Local Sports Scene and it occurred to me that I could not name on single player on the Vikings squad this year.

None. Zero. Nada. El squatooski.

Same goes for the Timberwolves, our alleged NBA franchise.

No Golden Gopher gridsters or cagers either. (The U of M is a Big Deal around here, too.)

Twins, sure. Joe Mauer. Eddie Rosiario. Byron Buxton.  But no pitchers.

And I conjured up a handfull of pucksters from the Wild, but not enough to form a second line.

I could however recite the Twins starting nines for Game One of the World Series in ’65, ’87 and ’91.

And I can give you chapter and verse of my beloved Dallas Cowboys backfield at the Ice Bowl in Packerville. (Jerry Kramer WAS offside, dammit…).

Today, not so much in any sport that isn’t played on a frozen rink.

Funny, I now got plenty of time to be a Complete Sports Vidiot but the thrill is gone.

If I wanna watch Thug Life I’ll pull out an old DVD of The Wire.

Or pop in Slapshot or Goon.

Oh, and just to bring this screed full circle I knew a couple of Lynx: Maya Moore and Lindsey Whalen.

Coulda done that back in June, too.

Take that Roger Goodell…


Bruno Strozek

Written by Bruno Strozek

Bruno Strozek is the author of occasionally semi-coherent piffle and has been a Writer/Editor at Sparta Report since July 2016.

Strozek, along with his alter-egos the decadent, drug-addled Sixties refugee Uncle Bruno and his intolerably feminist SJW Cousin Brunoetta have been riding the not-yet crested wave of deplorability with posts covering politics, sports, entertainment and zombies.

Aptly described as both "hilarious and deeply disturbed" Strozek has enthusiastically embraced the recommendation of the late Raoul Duke that "when the going gets weird the weird turn pro."

Although he has fallen far short of his bucket-list goal of writing for such respectable rags as The National Enquirer and The Weekly World News Strozek is grateful for the opportunity to pen his unhinged screeds at Sparta Report and is constantly amazed and delighted at the reception his pieces receive in the cements.

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