A couple of weeks ago when I was in New York for HGTV I grabbed a quick drink at the hotel bar before the car to the airport arrived, taking a seat right underneath a giant flat screen TV that was tuned to The World Cup. There were only a few other people there, and suddenly I heard a really loud, obnoxious voice from behind me complaining about “this boring soccer crap.” And when I turned around to see who he was talking to, I noticed he had a fancy set of golf clubs sewn on the left chest of his shirt. Did I just sum up America in that last bit, or what?
I mean, boring? Have you even seen a match? Because boring is certainly not the first word that comes to mind when I’m watching one. Sexy, yes. HOLY BATSHIT INSANE, totally. Those guys are running, like, a hundred miles and looking mighty fine while doing so. How hard is it to look that good while just standing there on a patch of grass while whacking a ball with a pole? Not really, but how many SO HOT I JUST MIGHT ORGASM FROM STANDING NEAR THE TELEVISION golf players have you ever seen?
Well, I guess if you’re really turned on by a beer gut.