Color me convinced of the theory, mine actually, that it was the advent of the T.V. remote that made America fat... that, the barka-lounger, and the availability of food beyond need and to the mere oral of fixations. I conclude this after finishing off the coffee Haagen Daz while flipping betwixt the Sox/Angels and John Grisham's The Rainmaker from my Lay-Z-Boy. (Hey! Gi'me a break, I went swimming last night!) As Matt Damon reviles ambulance chasing to Danny Devito, Terry Francona leaves Hideki Okajima in to pitch to Vladimir Guerrero representing the tying run with Mark Teixiera on first.
I have other theories, of course; for example, the proliferation of SUVs during the 90s leading to an uptick in road rage. Who the hell wants to be driving behind the ass-end of a gas guzzler -- keep to the right, motherfucker!
Ach! Guerrero singles, Teixiera to 2nd and Oki takes a trot off so Justin Masterson can see if his lead-lined sinker'll do the trick. Can somebody shoot the goddamned monkey down off the scoreboard already?
And get a load of the thundersticks. You lay serious coin for a coupla playoff grandstand seats, and a seawave of douchebags insist on obstructing your view with -- fuck me! -- thundersticks! Another reason, Mr. Disney, to hate Anaheim.
Oh! Commercial! Time to flip!