What the NFL Doesn't Get

Here we see a bunch of imagination-starved louts, their brain cells fried by the cotton candy of downloadable video and instant-gratification fantasy games, incapable of having fun with what looks to be a 1990s era, Atari-style football game. You can just see one of them muttering "huh? Wha' jus' happened? This sucks, man. Those dots don' look like people, so how can I tell they're supposta be people?"

"The NFL has never been a game of dots..." the narrator begins. And we know what's coming- fuck this dot shit guys, now you can go to NFL Fantasy Football.com and see actual video when you play your game.

By yourself.

When I was around 12 years old, me and my brothers played a really cool electronic football game- you'd pick offensive and defensive plays from a file and then put them on a piece of transparent plastic backlit by a light bulb. Then you'd slide an opaque piece of paper over your selected plays, revealing which side guessed correctly and whether yards were gained or lost. We'd play this game for HOURS. Know why? Because it required strategy, and it was AWESOME.

My nephew got married this past summer. When he was seven years old, in 1987, we'd spend hours playing an NFL computer game on my Tandy 1000 TX. The "players" were little blobs of color on a green screen representing the field. Every sack resulted in a loss of six yards, and for some reason the little blob labeled Art Monk would always make a big play when my nephew wanted him to, dammit. We'd play this game for HOURS. Know why? Because it was easy and FUN.

Now, NFL.com tells us that unless our games look exactly like television, they are really really lame and you'll die of boredom attempting to play them.

Well, fuck off, NFL. Not all football fans are brain-dead losers who need their fun spoon-fed to them. Why would I want to play a game that makes me think I'm just WATCHING a game?

Maybe I'd understand it better if I understood fantasy football to begin with- when I was a kid, we'd dash outside between commercials, at half time, and between games to throw a football around. We still play touch football on Holidays, when we can get enough of the family together. I guess the NFL wouldn't get this, since they think that when we aren't actually watching a game, we should be spending all our time checking stats, "conducting trades," playing some crap version of a real contest on our laptops, and above all gradually becoming part of our couches as our brains turn to jelly.

Facebook. Cell phones. Fantasy Football. Nope, this Obesity Epidemic has me stumped. What could possibly be the cause?

You could at least stop being part of the problem, NFL.

Check out the latest Shiny Thing You Have to Own!

Now that you can blather incessantly for unlimited hours (still laughingly referred to as "minutes" in these commercials,) text your fingers off, watch videos and television, play games, manage your fantasy leagues (taking breaks now and then to check Facebook and fantasize that you have friends, or looking out the window and fantasizing that your life is worth living) and basically waste your youth away fiddling with a stupid piece of plastic as your waistline and ass expand exponentially and your inevitable bout with diabetes moves ever closer, your existence is, truly, Fascinating, isn't it?

Not that this will have any impact on you pathetic zombies, but do you ever stop to think that maybe it's pretty damned sad that you are being sold a phone called the "Fascinate" many, many years after cell phone technology ceased to be anything close to "fascinating," and many, many years after cell phones moved from conveniences to life-sucking, privacy-denying nuisances? Today I'm speaking in particular to the obnoxious jackass on the jogging trail thirty yards in front of me this afternoon, who insisted on carrying on an EXTREMELY LOUD "conversation" (I assume someone was on the other end, though I can't imagine when that person had a chance to add anything) sprinkled with plenty of cursing and what used to be considered rather delicate, private details- that is, back when we actually had a civilization going on here.

Remember those days? They were fascinating.

The Punchline is Worth the Wait

These "Family Stories" ads are a little funnier on the radio- people "discussing" the car that serves as the center of their lives, how Cousin Bob bought one two years after he got off the boat from the old country, and here's a black and white showing that event, and later he turned it over to his first-born, embracing the tradition of primogeniture, but then later that guy bought another Camry and the original was handed off....well, you get the idea.

Still, actually seeing people wax poetic about the family car is pretty darned amusing, especially when you remember that, after all, they are talking about a CAMRY. All these kids are dreaming of the day when mom and dad decide it's time to pass the family car on to the next generation- one girl gives a "YES!" fist pump when recalling that glorious day when she inherited the well-worn chariot. Another kid allows himself to fantasize out loud that he might someday be bequeathed the family's new Camry Hybrid- only to suffer they "yeah right, as if you're worthy" (or maybe it's the "yeah right, as if this thing is still going to be running when you are old enough to drive, six years from now") derisive laughter of his parents and siblings.

So what's the hilarious punchline? It's not the stupid "Boller Camry Tree" pun- that's not hilarious, it's just cloying and stupid. It's the "Want to see the Boller's whole story? Go to Camry.com" we get in the tv ad. I mean, come on- first, does this nonsense really qualify as a "story?" The parents in this family buy Camrys and then pass them on to the kids. Not exactly as complicated as your average Dickens novel. We GET IT.

Second, I'm trying to picture the kind of person who would go online to see how this "story turns out." All I can get is an image of the Most Boring Person Who Has Ever Lived. I mean, if you find yourself actually researching one family's car ownership history, you are probably beyond being told to get a life. BTW, this part is also funnier on the radio- I don't know why, but there's something unintentionally chuckle-worthy about a sober, serious announcer intoning "for more of this story, go to...."
I wonder if their server ever crashes from the surge in traffic after these ads.

Dude, Where Are Your Eyes?

State Farm's creepy eyeless wonder is back to tell us all about saving money, something he openly mocked not all that long ago in another ad. This time he's at Fenway, trying to sell us some line about saving being "America's Real National Pasttime."

Ok, hold it right there, buddy. Saving is "America's Real National Pasttime?" Really? Since when? The last time I checked, Americans were actually running a negative savings rate, regularly spending MORE THAN THEY MAKE. Not their fault in most cases- something to do with stagnant wage growth not matching a steady rise in the cost of living- but a fact just the same. Americans don't save a whole hell of a lot of money these days. In fact, Americans don't save ANY money these days. "National Pasttime?" Please.

This guy's lame pitch is given a boost from "random" passerbys, one of which is entertaining his friend with how he's been bringing his lunch to work every day and "fifty extra dollars, IN my pocket." Again- this is the kind of frugality that State Farm, with the help of this same spokeschoad, had fun ridiculing in a previous ad. Remember "what some people won't do to save money?" Sorry, buddy- you fail. This is not the way to save money, just the way to earn sneers from State Farm.

A woman walks up to our favorite Dick Tracy Villain (who was that- "BB eyes," right?) and declares "I save money by being accident free!" as if she's seeking approval from her dad. "See? I save money in an insurance-related manner. That makes me better, right? Right?"

In the end, we are told that if we REALLY want to save money, we need to stop the nickle-and-diming crap and give State Farm a call. Instead of sending this perpetually squinting creep with his smarmy grin around to mock us for our doomed efforts to save money without the help of his All-Wise Insurance Company, maybe they ought to offer to stop inflicting him on us innocent television viewers, who after all are just trying to relax after a long day of Saving.

And if they refuse, maybe we should give Flo over at Progressive another look. I mean, even her freakishly pale perkiness isn't as insufferable as State Farm's cheerfully condescending stalker.

It's Getting Ugly Out There

All of the NFL Direct Commercials have one thing in common: they all suggest that football fans are narrow-minded pigs who are so bigoted against people who dare root for a team other than their own, they are willing to commit acts of almost insane stupidity, cruelty or lawlessness against the "offenders."

I could do an entire month just on these commercials. In one, which I may use later if I find myself in pinch, a police officer "hilariously" (according to the drooling choad who posted it to YouTube) tazers a guy on his fantasy football team as "payback" for daring to use the advantage of DirectTV. Haha, what's funnier than police brutality?

This one, however, beats it out as the most sickening episode I've seen so far. A thoroughly evil waitress is so damned bitter than a group of slackers is rooting for another team that when (admittedly rudely) asked for more iced tea, she actually wrings out her filthy dishrag into their drinks and stirs them with her finger. Oh, how delightful. This is high comedy in trailer parks and among 13-year old boys, neither of whom you'd think would be likely customers for a high-end cable service. How a thinking adult could react with anything but disgust for the ad writers and repulsion for the company which insists on bludgeoning us with one of these pointless, loathsome piles of crud after another is, I admit, beyond me. That being said, I imagine I'll get getting a lot of "OH LITEN UP ITS FUNNY LOL" responses.

Here's the only way this commercial falls just short of horrifyingly repulsive: Each of the worthless jackanapes about to consume dishwater with their tea is watching the football game on their own personal electronic devices- I guess there's a cell phone in there, and an I-Pad, and maybe a FloTV, I don't recognize each device. Maybe they've been there for hours, have long since paid for their lunches, and continue to squat at their table only occasionally demanding refills but otherwise just taking up space and refusing to exit and make room for other paying customers. I can see the waitress becoming frustrated that they've decided to treat the restaurant like it's someone's living room, while "treating" the other patrons to the noise from their little tv-toys as well as their "intelligent" comments concerning the game. I can see the anger and impatience rising in this woman, as she watches other people come and go but these losers who have apparently been exiled from Hooters, the local tavern, and all the other places real people go to watch football sit and sit and demand one free refill after another....

All that being said, it's still pretty darned disgusting, and I'm sorry- but if you think this commercial is funny, please don't bother to let me know. There is something really, really wrong with you.

Quick Quiz: Who is the Biggest Loser in this Commercial?

Is it this guy, with his hang-dog look, his greasy hair, and his total inability to stick up for himself and tell this wretched woman what he thinks of her "its not like you are a human being or anything" attitude? I mean, can we all agree that a glass of cold water to the face would be a perfectly appropriate response to the look she gives him in the ad's final seconds?

Is it this woman, who we can easily imagine spent each moment of every date consulting her Facebook page, tweeting, texting, and otherwise treating the guy she was with like a worthless piece of crap who only existed to pick up the check at the end of the evening? Is she really such a prize that guys are likely to instantly note her "single" status and start calling her asking for an opportunity to take her and her phone out for a nice dinner and get treated like a pile of shit for their efforts?

The answer is really None of the Above. Yes, these people are both really pathetic losers. The guy has no spine and no dignity, the woman probably once had a soul, but it's been exchanged for a Social Network, and all that's left behind is a hollow shell which, sorry, does not have the surface attraction to pull off this level of cruelty for very long. But in a way, they are also winners- they are both getting out of what was probably a miserable non-relationship anyway, not that they are likely to provide warmth and a level of happiness to anyone else in the near future. Or ever.

So, who are the real losers? The answer is actually pretty obvious: the real losers are the other people sitting down for dinner at what looks to be a pretty nice restaurant, because they get to hear these two disfunctional knobs "communicate" with each other through their cell phones, which at LEAST are on vibrate (but anyone who has ever been in a confined place near a person with a constantly-vibrating cell phone knows that this is only a small comfort.) Never mind the glass of water to the face of the woman in this commercial- I think that the other customers would be more than justified in ganging up on these two insufferable twits and cracking their skulls together if they won't turn off their damned phones and just TALK TO EACH OTHER. It's not like they were using the contents anyway.

Oh yeah, this marriage is going to last

The narrator of this commercial is so happy. I mean, she just got married to the Perfect Guy.

Except that he's got horrible taste, and no way is she tolerating it. Dogs Playing Poker poster? Got to go. Beer can collection? Not in HER house.

And except that he acted like a total baby when he learned that the equation is (OUR stuff= MY stuff -HIS stuff.)

That's ok, he'll grow up quick under this woman's thumb. I mean, it's not like she's demanding that he throw it away. She'd never be that unreasonable. She just wants it packed away where she will never, ever see it again, or be reminded of the time when he was a bachelor or had an identity beyond Her Husband.

So everything this guy has ever prized, everything he ever treasured, is packed away in a U Store It, locked up nice and tight, and for a few dollars a month, it will stay there. Probably not too many months though- I mean, really, how long can it be before this woman decides that her husband's crap isn't worth those few dollars a month, and decides to hold an impromptu yard sale? (I bet her husband acts like a baby when THAT happens, too.)

Message received and processed: Marriages aren't about respect or compromise. They are about one person getting what she wants, and the other person getting the hell out of the way. Lovely.