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I modified a funny rant on baseball by George Carlin,
adapting it to auto racing, back in 2000.
I have removed or tempered all of the profanity too.
adapting it to auto racing, back in 2000.
I have removed or tempered all of the profanity too.
| George Carlin 1937-2008 |
Here's something I don't care about: driver's families. This is really the bottom of the
sports barrel. I'm watchin' a race on TV, and just because some driver's trophy wife
is in the pits, someone thinks they have to put her picture on the screen. And I miss
an amazing pass.
Same with a driver's father. "There's his dad, who taught him how to steer when he
was two years old." To hell with him, the sick bastard. His own sports dreams
probably crash-landed, so he forced a bunch of crap on his kid, and now the kid's a
neurotic driver. Screw driver's relatives. If they wanna be on TV, let 'em go to cable
access.
I also don't care if an driver's wife had a baby, how she is, how the baby is, how
much the baby weighs or what the baby's name is. It's got nothin' to do with sports.
It’s just a weak attempt to make these low-level neanderthals appear human. Leave
it out.
And I'm tired of racers whose children are sick. Healthy men with sick children: how
banal. If the kid is sick, talk it over privately; don't spread it all over television. Have
some dignity. And run the damn race!!
Nor do I wanna know about some driver's crippled little brother or his hemophiliac
sister. NASCAR specialize in this kind of mawkish bullcrap. Either his aunt has the
clap, or his kid has a forty-pound mole, or his high school buddy overdosed on
burritos, etc. Can't sports exist on television without all this embarrassing, maudlin,
super-sentimental, tear-jerking crap! Keep your personal disasters to yourself, and
get in there and drive 200 mph into the freakin’ wall, ya creepy sweatmonger.
And I don't care for all that middlebrow philosophical bull you get from drivers and
owners when someone on the team has a serious illness or dies in an accident. They
give you this baloney, "When something like this happens, you realize what's really
important. It's only a race." Bullshit! If it's only a race, get the hell out of the
business.
You know what's important? The finish line. Who won. I can get plenty of sad tales
somewhere else in this victim-packed society. Screw all that dewy-eyed sentimental
garbage about people who are sick. And that includes any driver whose father died a
week before the race who says, "This one's for Pop." American bathos. Keep it to
yourself. Drive the car!
And I shouldn't even have to mention injured racers who are driving on "nothing but
heart." Screw you! Suck it up and get out there.
And I don't wanna know about race teams that put stickers on their cars or helmet to
honor dead people, as if it really means something. Leave that stupid superstitious
crap in the garage. I don't wanna know who's in mourning. Race, you stupid
grotesque miniature nitwits!
And why are they always tellin' us that one of these drivers has a tumor? Don't they
realize no one cares if an athlete has a tumor? You know when you care about a
tumor? When you have it. Or someone close to you. Who cares about a driver?
I notice no one cares if a rock star gets a tumor. So what's so special about an
athlete? By the way, have you ever noticed that you don't hear as much about rock
stars getting tumors as you do about athletes? Maybe the drug life is a little better
for your health than all that stupid, sweaty stuff the athletes put themselves through.
It’s worth thinking about.
And you can skip tellin' me about the Chevrolet rookie of the race. A thousand-dollar
contribution to a scholarship fund in the driver's name. Shit. A thousand dollars won't
even keep a kid in decent drugs for half a semester. Screw Chevrolet. And screw
Jeff Gordon. And screw forced wholesomeness.
And when are the media gonna discover that no one cares if an driver is active in
local charities? People don't want to know about some tobacco juiced hillbilly who's
working to help the National Douchebag Foundation, or how much he cares about
poor and sick kids. Can the bastard just race? Fine. Suit him up and get him the hell
out there on the track. Let him injure someone.
One last thing on this topic. No one, repeat, no one is interested in drivers who can
sing or play musical instruments. We already have people who perform these tasks
Kenny Brack. They're called singers and musicians, and, at last count, it would seem
we have quite enough of them. The fact that someone with an IQ triple his age has
mastered a few simple chords is unimportant and of monumental disinterest.
Start your engines!
sports barrel. I'm watchin' a race on TV, and just because some driver's trophy wife
is in the pits, someone thinks they have to put her picture on the screen. And I miss
an amazing pass.
Same with a driver's father. "There's his dad, who taught him how to steer when he
was two years old." To hell with him, the sick bastard. His own sports dreams
probably crash-landed, so he forced a bunch of crap on his kid, and now the kid's a
neurotic driver. Screw driver's relatives. If they wanna be on TV, let 'em go to cable
access.
I also don't care if an driver's wife had a baby, how she is, how the baby is, how
much the baby weighs or what the baby's name is. It's got nothin' to do with sports.
It’s just a weak attempt to make these low-level neanderthals appear human. Leave
it out.
And I'm tired of racers whose children are sick. Healthy men with sick children: how
banal. If the kid is sick, talk it over privately; don't spread it all over television. Have
some dignity. And run the damn race!!
Nor do I wanna know about some driver's crippled little brother or his hemophiliac
sister. NASCAR specialize in this kind of mawkish bullcrap. Either his aunt has the
clap, or his kid has a forty-pound mole, or his high school buddy overdosed on
burritos, etc. Can't sports exist on television without all this embarrassing, maudlin,
super-sentimental, tear-jerking crap! Keep your personal disasters to yourself, and
get in there and drive 200 mph into the freakin’ wall, ya creepy sweatmonger.
And I don't care for all that middlebrow philosophical bull you get from drivers and
owners when someone on the team has a serious illness or dies in an accident. They
give you this baloney, "When something like this happens, you realize what's really
important. It's only a race." Bullshit! If it's only a race, get the hell out of the
business.
You know what's important? The finish line. Who won. I can get plenty of sad tales
somewhere else in this victim-packed society. Screw all that dewy-eyed sentimental
garbage about people who are sick. And that includes any driver whose father died a
week before the race who says, "This one's for Pop." American bathos. Keep it to
yourself. Drive the car!
And I shouldn't even have to mention injured racers who are driving on "nothing but
heart." Screw you! Suck it up and get out there.
And I don't wanna know about race teams that put stickers on their cars or helmet to
honor dead people, as if it really means something. Leave that stupid superstitious
crap in the garage. I don't wanna know who's in mourning. Race, you stupid
grotesque miniature nitwits!
And why are they always tellin' us that one of these drivers has a tumor? Don't they
realize no one cares if an athlete has a tumor? You know when you care about a
tumor? When you have it. Or someone close to you. Who cares about a driver?
I notice no one cares if a rock star gets a tumor. So what's so special about an
athlete? By the way, have you ever noticed that you don't hear as much about rock
stars getting tumors as you do about athletes? Maybe the drug life is a little better
for your health than all that stupid, sweaty stuff the athletes put themselves through.
It’s worth thinking about.
And you can skip tellin' me about the Chevrolet rookie of the race. A thousand-dollar
contribution to a scholarship fund in the driver's name. Shit. A thousand dollars won't
even keep a kid in decent drugs for half a semester. Screw Chevrolet. And screw
Jeff Gordon. And screw forced wholesomeness.
And when are the media gonna discover that no one cares if an driver is active in
local charities? People don't want to know about some tobacco juiced hillbilly who's
working to help the National Douchebag Foundation, or how much he cares about
poor and sick kids. Can the bastard just race? Fine. Suit him up and get him the hell
out there on the track. Let him injure someone.
One last thing on this topic. No one, repeat, no one is interested in drivers who can
sing or play musical instruments. We already have people who perform these tasks
Kenny Brack. They're called singers and musicians, and, at last count, it would seem
we have quite enough of them. The fact that someone with an IQ triple his age has
mastered a few simple chords is unimportant and of monumental disinterest.
Start your engines!