In some other kind of world, sports entertainment skews off on a tangent, and grown men end up playing some of the other childhood games for big money. Football and baseball are a thing of the past, and instead, we tune in to watch highly paid athletes playing marbles or kickball, or maybe professional monkey bars (although this already sounds a bit like professional wrestling.)
“Look at the size of that shooter thumb!” we might hear on any given Sunday.
The Super Bowl would be replaced by Super Recess Sunday, and instead of cheerleaders, grown women would travel with the teams, pacing up and down the sidelines in small, intimate groups, whispering things to one another that no one could hear. Dozens of strategically placed webcams would zoom in, trying to catch the lip movement, playing it back in slow motion on giant stadium screens. The crowd would roar in appreciation.
“Well, it’s fourth set and long, and the Pittsburgh Steelies have backed themselves into a tough corner here.
“Only three cat’s eyes left in the bag. They’re going to have to go for it, Norm.”
“Either that or use up the last of their dropsies, and I don’t think anyone wants to see that happen.”
“But with five of their starters already benched due to pulled extensor pollicis brevis’, I don’t see as they have any choice.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. But you hate to see it. Especially after coming so far.”