We are Forerunners. Guardians of all that exists. The roots of the Galaxy have grown deep under our careful tending. Where there is life, the wisdom of our countless generations has saturated the soil. Our strength is a luminous sun, towards which all intelligence blossoms... And the impervious shelter beneath which it has prospered.
Not American football, mind you- though I readily admit, I don't see the point of gridiron myself:
I will certainly concede that I cannot for the life of me understand American sports such as basketball, baseball, or gridiron. I don't mind ice hockey too much, though that has more to do with the fact that the sport essentially comes down to MMA-On-Ice, with sticks and nets and a blunt black puck-shaped object added in for effect more than anything else- presumably to provide a distraction from all of the flying broken teeth, I guess.
But I have to say, I'm with Bill (and most of the USA) when it comes to "soccer".
It's the most pointless sport on the face of the Earth. (Right after golf. Lord Almighty, but I HATE golf.) No one EVER scores- and that's in the GOOD matches.
There is the odd exception, of course- the most notable among these being the utterly hilarious blitzkriegunleashed upon the hapless and hopeless Brazilians by the Germans in last year's World Cup. Watching the replay of that match in the gym was pure comedy gold; I remember laughing so hard I could barely balance the bar while doing squats.
However, for the most part, football (as it is properly and correctly known) is, basically, useless.
Case in point: on the afternoon of July 4th, I was at my martial arts school watching four guys test to black belt. That was three hours of pure awesomesauce. We got a chance to see our art expressed at the highest possible level by four men with different backgrounds, skill sets, approaches to fighting, and body types. It was epic, and at the end of it all, they were all scored and they were given belts to signify their new status as certified card-carrying badasses.
Then my buddy and I went down to a nearby sports bar for a beer and a bite to eat. On the TV screens that day- blasphemously, in my humble opinion, given that it was the 4th of July- was a football match between Chile and Argentina. They were 70 minutes in and NO ONE HAD SCORED. They kept shuttling the ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, for the next 20 minutes. They then went into overtime, and STILL no one scored.
Finally- finally!!!- it came down to penalty kicks. By which point, we'd paid our tab and were on our way out. I have no idea who won, and I couldn't care less. Think about that, though. For something close to 100 minutes, two teams of 11 men each basically just ran around chasing a spherical object and accomplished 100 percent of ABSOLUTELY DICK-ALL.
And the worst part is, there were Argentinians at that bar watching the screens with utterly rapt attention, groaning and yelling each time their side repeatedly muffed their attempts to score. If it wasn't so annoying to have to listen to such silliness in close proximity while I was trying to hold a conversation with a good friend, it would have been hilarious.
The fact is that football is boring. It just is. By contrast, gridiron- which, again, I don't pretend to understand in the slightest- is actually interesting, not least because it involves strategy, tactics, and the very real prospect of watching the quarterback become a victim of intentional vehicular homicide every time a snap is called. Yes, it involves watching a bunch of big beefy blokes prancing around a pitch like Kevlar-armour-plated nancies and stopping for tea breaks every 2 minutes, but at least there's an actual sport involved, instead of a lot of running back and forth and up and down and side to side.
If I wanted to watch people running, I'd watch the marathon. (I tend to agree with Dr. John Becker when it comes to marathons: they always get my hopes up- it always looks like 20,000 idiots are leaving the city, but then they just make this big loop and come right back in again...)
If I want to watch a real sport, though, I'll watch tennis, or MMA. Or, hell, even ice hockey. At least in ice hockey, when someone falls down clutching something howling in pain, he's actually hurt.