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Could it be that when it comes to sports coverage, The Onion’s hillarious “Get Out of My Face” keeps sport insights more real than its satirical targets, ESPN sports debate shows “Pardon the Interruption” and “Around the Horn”?
Well, for one thing, “Get Out of My Face” broadcasters Kenny Kennedy and Reggie Greengrass are easily more entertaining (not to mention, their allocution more engaging) than their counterparts on ESPN. Kennedy and Greengrass defy stodgy sports fans who have no sense of humor whatsoever, like the “owners” of my fantasy football league who constantly get offended at my offers of Cincinnati Bengals field goal kicker Mike Nugent for Aaron Rodgers or Matt Forte. Or, for that matter, those fans who seem to laugh only when discussing a “poor trade” or a dominating performance by their favorite sports team.
A sports show like “Get out of my Face” caters to that unsung, yet wide subset of sports fans who watch games not to yell at each other in a serious exchange about whether this QB is better than that one, but to laugh, escape, get lost in both the strategic and often hillariously human aspects of the game, be free.
The beauty of “Get out of My Face” is not just the raucous humor; it actually boils things down to cogent truths so much better than does our mainstream sports media. Really, aren’t we all sick and tired of the debate about whether Eli Manning is an elite quarterback? Personally, I feel some degree of intellectual vapidity for spending so much time at pontificating a littany of reasons about how Eli Manning just isn’t an “elite quarterback.” Leave it to Kennedy and Greengrass to set everyone straight on this impasse ridden debate: the sports media keeps granting Manning four day passes into the “elite” QB stratosphere whenever he puts up a top performance, thereby permitting Manning to walk alongsie Aaron Rodgers and Drew Brees up on the clouds, each adorned in a golden toga. Anyone care to disagree?
“Get Out of My Face,” of course, is not an answer to all the problems in sports discourse. The next time someone starts yelling at me in a bar as to why, precisely, a sports argument must be true, I may think of “Get Out of My Face” instead of the ESPN ticker and just break out into a fit of laughter. Still, a few cuss words in my direction or a potential bar fight is a small price to pay for enjoying something freely; humor and ultimate truth over very serious dances around both.