Tag Archives: obesity

Why Women Hate Sports

All women hate sports.

OK, this is not entirely true.  “All” women do not hate sports, just as “all” men do not love sports, just as “All That” was not all that “all that” (in fact, it was mediocre programming at best).  But, as a writer, I must make sweeping generalizations to stir up fake controversy and drive enraged traffic to this site.1 So, I stand by my claim: ALL WOMEN HATE SPORTS…with a few clarifying points:

  • When I say “all women”, I’m referring mostly to the following female groups: those who get bedazzled manicures, those who know how to bake a pie, and those who own more than two cats.  These groups are mutually exclusive.2
  • When I say “sports”, I’m referring to the three professional sports that the average American male watches most: Baseball, football, and basketball.  Hockey doesn’t count, because it is ruled by Canadians and all women have a soft spot for Canadians because of Bryan Adams.
  • When I say “hate”, I really mean it, guys.  Women do not tolerate sports.  They actively hate sports with an overwhelming rage equivalent to missing a sample sale.  It’s that serious.

So now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to it: Why do women hate sports?  Is it a feminist repudiation against a misogynistic society that unfairly celebrates a jock culture?  No.  It’s actually far simpler than that.  There are  four clear-cut reasons why women hate sports.  If we understand these reasons, then perhaps we can save sports for women.

Jealousy. This is not where I say that women hate sports because they’d rather be spending time with their man.  Don’t flatter yourself, guys.  Women don’t want to spend more time with men. Instead, the thing women are most envious about is how much men actually care about sports.  If Cavs fans in Cleveland were asked to choose between keeping their wives or bringing LeBron James back, how many guys would leave their wives?  ALL OF THEM.  Men can rattle off facts about the Cowboys’ winning percentage on the road, but they can’t remember the date of their anniversary.  They can tell you the name of the Cubs’ fifth starter, but they can’t recall the name of their middle child.  To women, it often seems like men are programmed to cry only at a funeral, a birth of a child, or the aftermath of Game 7 (oh, and Toy Story 3, unless they are robots).  Men care about sports in ways that defy logic: They will develop a routine (the Red Sox will win if I sit on the left side of the couch, but not the right side).  They will chant in unison.  They will scream at the television.  And they will grow a playoff beard.  (And it’s always a disgusting one.)

Obesity. How do you watch a sporting event?  Sometimes sitting down.  Sometimes standing up.  Either way, you’re getting fat.  Yes, it’s ironic that sport inspires men to gouge themselves on beer and nachos, thus turning them into flabby masses that do not resemble the heroes they so admire on the field (unless they are a fan of CC Sabathia).  If we didn’t have sports, would men actually stress-eat a bucket of chicken wings every Sunday?  Hopefully not.  Our sports-watching culture has led to a corpulent male population chock-full of beer-bellied dudes and Type 2 diabetes.  Women, at least, have a good excuse for getting fat (We carry your children, dammit! Let us have our whoopee pies!).  Men have no such excuse.  The reason men are fat is because of sports.  And women hate them for it.

Cheaters. It’s hard for women to like professional athletes because 99% of pro athletes are adulterous cheaters.  Well, that might be an exaggeration… 98% of pro athletes are cheaters, and women hate men who are unfaithful.  Women classify cheaters in the same category of “shitty man” that includes murderers, rapists, and wife-beaters.  On the other hand, male fans have the moral fortitude of a perforated sponge.  Men will forgive their fellow shitty man as long as he delivers in the clutch, but women will never, ever, ever forget that the guy cheated on his pregnant wife.  Sorry, Tiger.  Unfortunately, our sports heroes of today (Kobe, Favre, A-Rod) are all veritable, no-good, douchebag cheaters.  Throw in a Rape-lisberger and a heartbroken Eva Longoria, and women will turn their backs on pro athletes.  All it takes is one bad apple taking pictures of his junk with a cameraphone, and no women will root for this lot of shitty men.

Crotch Grabbers. There is only one thing that women hate more than cheaters, and this is watching men grab their own crotches.  In an average baseball game, crotchshots are shown almost as often as something interesting happening (finally… a single…).  Come on.  Does an extra mini-appendage really need that much maintenance?  Players — we know that you are a man.  You don’t have to prove it to us. And since you have millions of dollars, perhaps you could invest in some medication for your below-the-belt ailments.  Athletes should only be playing with one ball, thank you very much, and that ball should be made of leather.

So, to Roger Goodell, Bud Selig, David Stern, and all men out there, if you want to convince women to like sports, please take the following advice: (1) Players: Soap.  Use it down there.  (2) Owners: Discourage your players from marriage.  Women will put up with philanderers (this is why women still love George Clooney), but they will not put up with cheaters.  (3) Fans: Lay off the dip.  You’re getting fat.  And even though it sounds terrible now, just consider two words: veggie platter. (4) Boyfriends, Husbands, and Fathers: Care about your women as if they were on your fantasy team.  And if that doesn’t work, well, then just trade us. Please.

1. This crappy, “gotcha” headline is an ode to other articles that make ridiculous sweeping generalizations of entire peoples: “Why You’re Not Married” or “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior“.

2. I estimate that these three groups make up close to 60% of all women.  But “60% of women hate sports” is not a good headline.

NB: I love sports.  But I do hate crotch grabs.

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Filed under Arts and Entertainment

When Doing Butt Clenches at the Office is Not Enough

Most of us sit at a desk for more than eight hours a day, staring at a tiny monitor, writing humdrum reports, and risking carpal tunnel in our fingers. The most exercise we get is from walking… on our way to the bathroom, or to a meeting, or once in a while, to lunch. Multiply this by five (or more) days a week, and it’s amazing that we can still squeeze through the doorways. A recent article described the habits of another group with “squat, furry bodies” akin to ours:

“Pandas have been ridiculed for their decidedly non-bearlike vegetarian diets, their apparent lack of interest in — and aptitude for — sex, their tendency to spend the majority of their time sitting, eating, scratching, and defecating (about 40 times per day) — even for being, shall we say, plump.”from MSNBC

While our nation’s best politicians have shown that humans do not lack interest in sex (where is Eliot Spitzer these days?), we seem to be more like pandas than ever before. The growing incidence of obesity in the world has reached over 300 million people worldwide. About 1 in 6 humans globally are considered overweight, and this ratio is even higher in industrialized countries. Indeed, perhaps much of this can be attributed to our workplace routine, where most of our days revolve around sitting, eating, scratching, and defecating… albeit at a much lower rate.

As evidenced by FOX’s short-lived series Man vs. Beast, humans have never been able to claim physical dominance over animals. Eventually our collective obesity could deem humans as nature’s next “evolutionary mistake,” a term typically reserved for our plump panda friends. Given that the white-collar workforce is at the forefront of our nation’s expanding pants size, here are a few workplace exercises that may help ease our gravitational burden:

  • The (Silent) Scream: If you ever thought that your face looked fat in a photo, try the silent scream. By stretching your lower jaw and neck muscles, while not actually emitting any sound, you can minimally improve the girth of your face. It’s also guaranteed to make your co-workers think twice about invading your personal space.
  • Office Chair Rowing: Think about your office chair as a poor man’s Bowflex. Start with some sets of butt clenches at your desk. Then try some air rowing to gain momentum. It’s always impressive when you can make your chair move without pedaling, and it’ll tighten up that derriere as well.
  • Lunges Combined with Stapler Curls: Make every trip to the bathroom exciting; not only would lunges help build those quad muscles for tree-climbing, but working up those biceps with staplers is a great way to keep in shape. And once you get a handle on staplers, you can move on to the three-hole punch, coffee pots, and perhaps even reams of legal-sized paper.

Finally, just a note: we acknowledge that there are fundamental differences between humans and pandas that make such a comparison preposterous. However, pandas are cute, hard-working, and relatable. If their impending extinction doesn’t make us start thinking about our own love handles and sedentary lifestyle, then what will? So for all of us, the plight of our chubby panda pals can give us a directive: either get on the can 40 times a day, or start doing some lunges.

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Filed under Careers

It’s a Tough Choice Between Cankles and Friends

Yesterday, my friend Andrew sent me this article, “The Social Side of Obesity”, with a note: “We can’t be friends.”

The article, which claims “you are who you eat with,” cites research that followed 12,000 adults for 32 years.  Those with a friend who became obese were 57% more likely to become obese themselves.

obesityPart of me thinks this is great news — If you are obese, at least you can revel in your whale-like tubbiness with your best friend!  Biggest Loser Couples is always more interesting than singles.  And this ensures that big people can get love too… because unless you have a hippo fetish, most Americans will cruelly judge anyone packing lardy love handles.

The downside of course, is that obesity leads to heart disease, diabetes, multiple chins, ugly flab, arm jiggle, cankles, and premature death.  Since I’m not on the road to obesity (yet), it’s easy for me to downplay these effects, and to continue to write about my love affair with food (and The Biggest Loser).

But Andrew’s email yesterday was a wake-up call.  Clearly, the essence of life is derived upon restraint.  I have to change my food-loving ways: it’s unhealthy to dream about fajitas, and wake up gnawing on my pillow.  To control my voracious appetite, I’m going to start having a lunch of water and sugar packets.  And given that obesity is just the product of irresponsible and indulgent behavior (of course, DNA has nothing to do with it), I’m ditching all of my fat friends.  I don’t need their chub mentalities seeping into my head.  I don’t want their potbellies full of beer and cheesecake taunting me. 

I may become friendless, but at least I’ll be skinny.

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Filed under News, Random