Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Peoples Done Lost they Mind

I went to a swim meet yesterday for work. It doesn't matter where. It was outdoors, so I guess you can rule out Greenland. I made some observations, most of them centered around a binding thesis.

People. Are. Fucking. Insane.

23 teams. 23 goddamn teams. Obviously, that means that each event will have more than one heat. However, do we have to watch the heat that has only two teams? It's agonizing. The meet was a two team race from the beginning (one team has won the last 20 in a row!), and I must admit there at the end, I was pretty excited. The margin was extraordinarily slim. Anyway, the two teams in the pool for a relay is absurd. Invariably, one team is made up of Mark Spitz' kids and a shark, while the other team is three fat kids and a rock. One time, the margin was a full minute. That means, there was cheering, the cheers died, and then everyone realized the rock was still swimming (says something when an inanimate object is your anchor), so they had to commence the awkward cheer. Ew.

This next one isn't necessarily particular to swimming, but I saw it a lot last night from one dude. You know when guy's act all gay and then start touching up on chicks? Does it freak anyone else out?

"Who, Raef? Oh, Lord, he's gayer than a picnic basket! Don't worry about Raef."

We get it. As if the visor, frosted tips, and crocs weren't already a dead give-away, you molesting the mid-section of my nine year old daughter was. Being gay doesn't make you less of a pederast, you creep.

The coaches at this fucking thing. Good Lord. I actually saw this at Shuey's swim meet at CC, but last night it was rampant. You know what swim coaches do at meets? Yell go. They yell it as loud and as often as possible, usually while gyrating toward the finishing wall. Goooo. Go! GO!!! As far as I could tell, the swimmers already knew this was a race. But, maybe not.

Speedos. Sick.

Annnnd the parents. As I indicated earlier, the same team has won the last twenty years. That's pretty good. Like, a high school could never do that, right? Anyway, before I lay into the parents, I want to say that if I walked in and none of the kids had those retarded swim caps on, I could tell you the winner. 22 teams were full of assholes and dick-faces. One team was not. They won. I don't have a major problem with the assholes and dick-faces, because, hey, they just want to have fun. However, the fucklords who spawned these kids freak the fuck out about the good team.

"Of course they win, all the good kids go there."

"I know I saw them fault at least twice."

"Well, their neighborhood's the biggest."

It went on. Don't these parents realize that a) their kid gives no shit, and b) it embarrasses the fuck out of their kid when they flip out over a foot fault in the 8-9 girls 200 meter relay (which lasted approximately 12 hours)? One woman, who stood right behind me, attempted to get a "Coo-per, Coo-per" chant started. Cooper, I presume, is her child. There are parents and kids from 22 other teams. To think that they will join you in the "Cooper" chant is batshit fucking insane.

Parents are insane.

The end.

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