Watching the Olympics in our hotel room tonight I was reminded of the following passage from George Carlin’s book, Brain Droppings:
“And I’m tired of athletes whose children are sick. Healthy men with sick children; how banal. The kid’s sick? Talk it over privately. Don’t spread it all over television. Have some dignity. And play fuckin’ ball!!
Nor do I wanna know about some athlete’s crippled little brother or his hemophiliac big sister. The Olympics specialize in this kind of mawkish bullshit. Either his aunt has the clap, or his kid has a forty-pound mole, or his high school buddy overdosed on burritos, etc. Can’t sports exist on television without all this embarrassing, maudlin, super-sentimental, tear-jerking bullshit? Keep your personal disasters to yourself, and get in there and score some fuckin’ points!
And I don’t care for all that middlebrow philosophical bullshit you get from athletes and coaches when someone on the team has a serious illness or dies in an accident. They give you that stuff, “When something like this happens, you realize what’s really important. It’s only a game.” Bullshit! If it’s only a game, get the fuck out of the business. You know what’s important? The score. Who won. I can get plenty of sad tales somewhere else in this victim-packed society. Fuck all that dewy-eyed sentimental bullshit about people who are sick. And that includes any athlete whose father died a week before the game who says, “This one’s for Pop.” American bathos. Keep it to yourself. Play ball!
And I shouldn’t even have to mention severly injured athletes who are playing on “nothing but heart.” Fuck you! Suck it up and get out there, motherfucker.
And they’re always tellin’ ya that one of these athletes has a tumor. Don’t they know that no one gives a fuck? You know when you care about a tumor? When you have it! Or someone
close to you. Who cares about an athlete? No one cares if a rock star gets a tumor. What’s so special about an athlete? By the way, you ever notice you don’t hear as much about rock stars getting these tumors as you do about athletes? Maybe the drug life is a little better for us than all that stupid sweaty shit the athletes put themselves through. Just speculating.
And I don’t wanna know about sports teams that sew the i initials of dead people on their jerseys for one whole season as if it really means something. Leave that mawkish bullshit in the locker room. I don’t wanna know who’s in mourning. Play ball, you fuckin’ grotesque overdeveloped nitwits!
And you can skip tellin’ me about the Chevrolet player of the game. A thousand-dollar contribution to a scholarship fund in the athlete’s name. Shit. A thousand dollars won’t even keep a kid in decent drugs for one semester. Fuck Chevrolet.
And when are they gonna discover that no one cares if an athlete is active in local charities? People don’t want to know about some coke-headed, steroid monstrosity who’s working to help the National Douche Bag Foundation. Or how much he cares about inner-city kids. Can the cocksuck-er play ball? Fine. Then suit him up and get him the fuck out there on the field and let him injure someone.
One last thing on this topic. No one, repeat, no one is inter ested in athletes who can sing or play musical instruments. We already have people to perform these tasks. They’re called singers and musicians, and, at last count, it would seem we have quite enough of them. The fact that someone with an IQ triple his age has mastered a few simple chords is unimportant and of monumental disinterest. Play ball!”