Skip to main content

Death Frisbee Soccer

Having watched hour upon hour of human pachinko during the World Cup I have grown accustomed to the emptiness I experience every 4 years. Truly, as a sport it's as un-American as any game gets; but it's the philosophical nihilism that wins the hearts and "minds" of the face painted plebeians who adore "the beautiful game". I put the word minds in quotes because soccer makes tiddlywinks look like a chess match where strategy is concerned.

No - like life itself for billions of earth’s denizens it is a irritating and exhausting process of "running around" chasing a object of desire… that you're not even allowed to hold and you must endure half your existence watching your opponents kicking it around. Scoring is a whimsical event - almost a mistake half the time and it's not uncommon to have an authority figure (the ref) arbitrarily punish you for no good god damn reason and cost you everything. Mind numbing monotony, you're best shots hitting the cross bar, tripped and pushed and bitten by girly men who fall down and cry the minute you push back and then an errant ball bounces off the head of some bald, ferret faced Dutchman and into your goal box and you're screwed. No way to get back in the game - every time you push the ball forward some lanky guardian rushes up and kicks the ball back behind you and you're Sisyphus for the remainder of your life.

Soccer life lesson: Score early by any means necessary and spend the rest of your time with your foot squarely on your opponent’s neck.

Semi-finals were two of the great non-events in sports history. Game 1 was over as soon as the Mofs scored goal number 2 against the home team - total collapse. Reminded me of the New York Jets under coach Rich Kotite - humiliation and shame. Game 2 was a complete snooze fest - tepid play and overly cautious to the detriment of everyone involved. Soccer will never catch on in the US if this is what it all comes down to - sheer boredom. And the final game didn't "climax" as many soccer nuts had hoped - a 1-0 wet dream dubbed with an English accent. All of which prompted a number of suggested rule changes to make the game something other than what it is.

I suggest a complete overhaul of the game:

Change the name of the sport to Death Frisbee Soccer

  • Give every contestant a Frisbee and a Nerf Bat as a weapon for attack & defense. 
  • Throwing the frisbee in the goal scores 1 point and kicking the ball in the goal scores 3 points. 
  • Ball and Frisbee can be knocked down by bat - still no touching of the ball by hands or arms (except goalie), but hitting it with the Nerf Bat is permitted and so is hitting it with a Frisbee. 
  • Also 3 dogs per side to retrieve the frisbees - score 5 points if dog catches frisbee in goal.
  • No frisbees can be thrown at the goal unless the soccer ball is on the offensive side of the midfield line, but once it is - fire away.

A game with 20 bats and frisbees (+ the soccer ball) flying around would be very entertaining. Scores would be in basketball land, corner kicks would be a melee and goalies would get A LOT more action.

I expect FIFA to adopt my rule changes before WC Russia in 2018.


Popular posts from this blog

The Real Story with Gretchen Carlson

She was "sexy", but "too much hard work." I'm a regular Fox & Friends viewer (mostly in protest of the other insipid morning programs like Today and Good Morning America) so over the years I've gotten to know Gretchen Carlson pretty well. Stuck between Steve and Brian she always seemed a prudish scold with an irritating, self-righteous demeanor that I simply put up with because I figured some people in the Fox audience actually liked her persona. It was obvious that Steve and Brian did not, but they were stuck with her like so many talking heads and had to make the best of it - which they did. Besides, she was no worse than any of the other women on morning show TV - I mean, you're only going to find a certain kind of person to do this kind of work and that kind of person is the Gretchen Carlson kind. Then, one day, she was gone and replaced by Elisabeth Hasselbeck and the F&F ratings began to climb, and climb and climb - in two months view

The 4th Estate "does not know"

Last night Jim Acosta sat down for an interview with Larry Sabato at a national symposium series presented by the University of Virginia’s Center for Politics titled “Democracy in Perilous Times.” The evening’s topic was “ The Fourth Estate: Enemy of the People? ” and the crowd was warmly receptive of Acosta’s message which, boiled down to its essence, is that Donald Trump is a liar and he’s making life dangerous for reporters. Sabato introduced Acosta to the audience as Enemy #1 which drew mirthful laughter from the auditorium and then presented a short video montage of President Trump and his deplorable rubes insulting the reporter on many occasions over the past two years. This was all a set up for his first question which was, “how do you do your Job?” Acosta said the he accomplishes his duties by maintaining focus, reporting the story and telling the truth but acknowledged that it is difficult when the White House erodes the peoples faith in the press by bullying reporters. Whe

A Apolitical Blues

Well my telephone was ringing, and they told me it was chairman Mao. You got to tell him anything 'cause I just don't want to talk to him now. According to the brilliant troubadour Lowell George the Apolitical Blues are " the meanest blues of all" and who am I to disagree with this soul man now after all these years of living by his maxim.  I first heard the song bursting from the 1972 vinyl of Little Feat's Alt-Rock-Country masterpiece "Sailin' Shoes" in the second story bedroom of my friend John's older brother Edie who, being about 3 years our senior, was instructing us on the importance of good music. This was circa 1975 and a formative time for my musical taste and overall aesthetic which, for better or worse, infuses every aspect of my existence including the KOTCB blog so a debt is owed this unforgettable "older brother" now that  he has shuffled off this mortal coil  and left us with smoky memories. A born rebel with the heart o