The few Bad Apples

I suppose I really should back off “the media” once in a while. It’s really about a few bad apples. I was watching the Olympics again last night (4 of 26 days done?) and have a few comments:

I absolutely loathe the self-congratulatory, influence-the-judge-or-at-least-the-crowd, presumptuous nature of the fencing “artists” who pump their fists and scream and prance about not when the touch was clear, but when they think they may have lost the point and want to make it look like they’re smarter than everyone else in the room (which backfires, the judges don’t give them the point based on their stupid antics).

However, my point had more to do with the nature of the commentators. We watched fencing, beach volleyball (whoever included that sport should be promoted to demi-god and be given free beer for life), swimming, and gymnastics. All told that means about 10 commentators. Eight of them were reasonable, smart people with a love of their sport, the games, or at least a sense of professionalism. Two of them felt it was their solemn duty to point out every loser and frame every bout as though “look at the disappointment on those faces, to have come so far, to have tried so hard, and to have gotten only Silver.”

Freakin’ bozos. Now, while it is admirable to want to be the best, and to strive for gold, and I AM sure that people recognize the little things they did wrong meant the ultimate goal went to someone else, not only is it the height of rudeness to point out someone else’s suffering, but is it really your job to make the SPECTATORS feel miserable TOO? Aren’t we supposed to be enjoying the games, congratulating the winners, feeling great about the efforts, and appreciating those who actually DID the best job, regardless of where they’re from? I cheer for the home team (and a few personal favorites from other places) and YES I want our guys and gals to come home decorated with gold, but I know my indignation is pure because I didn’t want **** smeared all over our faces by the commentators any more than I wanted derision extolled because WE beat the Aussies in the pool. It didn’t ruin our victory for me, but it took away some of the savor because I had to be embarrassed that these ***holes represent us behind the microphone. How pathetic.

If someone lost with poor grace, that would be one thing. If, however, someone is experiencing a moment of pain because they know their effort was 0.1 seconds too slow, or it was so close the tiny hop-step they took on their dismount meant silver instead of gold, how about letting them feel that pain, letting us sympathize with them, but not trying to out-snide David Spade (which nobody can do anyway) and find the most colorful way to brag to the world that you know what gross thoughts are going through someone else’s mind. They’re out on the floor, ****weed, you’re a loser has-been who is so pathetic as a color commentator nobody can tell why the scores are handed out the way they are and you survive only by making EVERYONE feel miserable. Explain the SPORT ****off, we can ALL see the intensity, the gravity, the emotion on the athletes’ faces. THAT part we understand. The fact that they have to hold a specific position for a certain amount of time, or how their legs are supposed to move, or why a judge might take off a point here or there, or perhaps BOTHER to tell us the starting difficulty score so we understand the final score better.

Blog-rant. Sigh. I may have to turn the sound off next time I watch. I wish there was a "no bozo announcers" channel.