|by Persius Juvenalis|
File under: Fake Labor 08 Feb 2013 12:29 EST
As the modern slave plantation of the NFL wraps up another season, this one marked by a drunken murder-suicide and capped by the retirement of an icon who believes God intervenes in his favor in football games, our heroes of the gridiron ring hollow.
Some may fulminate against the glorified thuggery which such men represent, but is far more appropriate to pity them as the naive pawns of a vast entertainment complex that couldn't care less about their thoughts or purpose as people beyond the propaganda of their made-for-TV community service. No less guilty are the people that fill the seats and buy the merchandise of these postmodern Coliseums -- the middle class, with their unconditional blank check for unlimited games.
But among the worst in this sordid spectacle of cheap fame and cheaper money are the 'professional class' of lifelong football professionals who don't risk permanent cerebral damage on a weekly basis, but have instead found coaching positions directing the young men desperate for a few years of fame and riches the league harvests each year.
Just as how Presidents who took the battlefield with their troops have become a distant memory in the age of PlayStation drone strikes, so very few remember that at the inception of modern sporting coaches also played on the field. And, just like how our parasitic managerial class has drained the vitality of corporate America, so the coaching caste serves as overseers for the dumb muscle too irresponsible to be allowed to drive without taking a breathalyzer.
Like all such pyramidal hierarchies, family ties typically bind those at the top. This year, the brothers Harbaugh pitted their teams against each other in the Super Bowl. Watch this inspiring piece about how the family values of the Harbaughs have contributed so much to their ability to motivate beleaguered players to fight on for their multi-million dollar salaries:
Here's a modest proposal to anybody who may be listening out in Hollywood: start a reality show about your average Joe football fan given the opportunity to coach the game at a high level, and see if the team fares at all the worse for it. My guess is that they will probably do better (positive media circus vibes tend to do that),and the cult of coaching may be so battered that universities will actually be able to afford to pay enterprising scholars and scientists in lieu of the football chieftain. Or, on the other hand, we will just end up with another celebrity coach... better title it "Join The Club, Bub".
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