I consider myself to be basically a non-violent person. I detest so-called “blood sports” and despite living in Texass, I am not at all a fan of hunting. I have never fished in my entire life because I can’t stand the idea of slamming a hook through the innocent fish’s mouth. I certainly don’t consider anything to be a “sport” when only one side understands we are “playing”. I detest any form of animal cruelty. Were I to have to hunt to feed myself, I would have to become an instant vegetarian. Of course, none of this prevents me from eating meat, poultry, and especially seafood. However, I prefer my meals to appear as anonymous chunks of meat not remotely related in appearance to their original owner. I also wear leather on the understanding that it’s only fair to the animal to wear its skin after ravenously turning its flesh into a meal.

I am also not a sports fan. I can happily go about my life with the drone of a ballgame in the background and be utterly clueless as to which sport is being played, let alone who is playing it … or why. Grown people chasing a ball around simply doesn’t entertain me near as much as say watching a dog catch a frisbee. And not getting paid millions of dollars to do so. Maybe I’d enjoy ballgames more if they paid me to watch them?

Having said all of the above, I have found myself at times randomly channel surfing in front of the square hypnosis box and coming across the occasional boxing match. Worse, I find myself actually watching two beautifully muscled men beating the living daylights out of one another . . . and it doesn’t bother me. Nor has it ever particularly excited me.

But then came Ultimate Fighting to which I was recently introduced and to which I have become ridiculously addicted. Ever since reality shows became popular I have secretly laughed in superior derision at those of my friends who waste hours of their lives watching such overdramatised prattle. Until Ultimate Fighting. For those of you not familiar with the sport, it is combat fighting in which multiple different martial arts styles are employed. It’s a highly exciting (to me) combination of boxing, kick-boxing, wrestling, judo, etc. Don’t rely on my description, if you want to learn more then go here and check it out for yourself. Aside from the savage beauty of witnessing the multiple-disciplines of martial arts, there is a definite spiritual quality to the fighters. They care about one another. They sometimes hug at the end of a fight. They respect one another. The impersonality of boxing is not present. Watching half-naked, fully-muscled men sparring and wrestling with one another has nothing to do with my fascination.

Thursday evenings now find Yours Truly and beau glued to the idiot box with a jug of wine and barrel of popcorn at hand; barely balanced on the edge of the sofa. First comes the reality show segment which gives you a chance to get to know the fighters, their interactions, and their various personal dramas. After that there is always a fight and I always have a favourite … and for the past three episodes in a row I have successfully picked the WINNER!!! Why yes, I AM an instant expert! I could make big money at this, I’m already 75-cents in the black! Last night we gleefully sat down to watch the drama and subsequent match and were shocked when one of the fighters chose to quit the contest for personal reasons. LAME personal reasons. We were shocked. As if that wasn’t bad enough, THERE WAS NO FIGHT!!!! The baahstads chose to substitute all-drama for the fight. I was GYPPED!!! GYPPED I TELL YOU!!! Yes, I am still sulking. I really enjoy my Ultimate Fighting nights, dammit. How DARE they not provide me with gratuitous violence on demand . . .

Methinks my white collar is starting to turn blue.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 12th, 2006 at 2:23 pm and is filed under Humour. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.