How Richard Sherman taught me it’s OK to be peeved
I’m a bit of a sports nut. I’ve worked in sports media for a long time and in close circles have a reputation of someone who knows what he’s talking about in most athletics-themed discussion. It’s just something I get – like how some people understand math or Shakespeare or the perfect milk-to-butter-to-powder ratio when making macaroni and cheese.
I’d say once per week on average, I’ll get a barrage of questions thrown my way in regard to some sports topic that recently occurred, and this week everything friends, family, colleagues, acquaintances, puppets and the like have had one topic in mind: Richard Sherman.
If you don’t know anything about Mr. Sherman, I’ll give you the three facts that are most vital about him for your social knowledge.
– He is a defensive player for the Seattle Seahawks. They’re a football team and they wear blue and green.
– After making a play that helped his team clinch a spot in the upcoming Super Bowl, he was approached by damsel sports reporter Erin Andrews for an interview wherewith he, to put it in a language you young-in’s can understand, “lost his cool.” He openly trash-talked opponent Michael Crabtree by name, set a bravado of being the best at what he does and did just about everything else that would make one expect he was in a tag-team championship match with the Road Warriors at Wrestlemania VII and not a football game.
– He looks just like Sanka from “Cool Runnings,” minus the lucky egg.
Insight on Sherman is pretty well down the middle. To one side of society, he is a braggadocious lack-wit who is ruining the sanctity of sport; to the other, he is imbuing the spirit of the game and a personality who proves more in his ability than his character, and to a sincere majority, he is Sanka from “Cool Runnings” – seriously though, put sunglasses on the dude and he’s Doug E. Doug. I refuse to concede this point.
To those clamoring for my take, here’s what I say: We as a society don’t even remotely embrace the angry rant as we should. The privilege to verbally “spill our applesauce” in times of frustration is a societal rite, and we should take those opportunities in stride.
Now, I understand we can’t spend all day melting down on every person who thinks “Moulin Rouge” was a good movie – we just don’t have the hour in the day – which is why I propose this action: Grant every member of society one guilt-and-consequence-free angered rant per year.
Think about it. How relieving would it be in this world of setback and trial knowing we have in our pocket the chance to transverse our emotions onto something else for as long as we need to and just walk away? It would be the “lowest exam score drop” of life. That’s one less burden to carry, and we would all share in the experience. It’s foolproof if anything ever has been. If and when this is approved and becomes a part of everyday life, I suggest we all take time and create our shortlists for those things we would be apt to rant about so we can create the most quality blow up experience possible. Here are a few of mine.
– People who say “yummy” – I haven’t a clue what it is about people who make a concerted effort to be 5-years-old and obnoxious, but there is no easier way to pull it off than giving juvenile commentary on a cupcake. Listen, the words we use paint a picture for us. When something is “delicious” or “decadent,” we get a view of the value of good taste. Even when something is “scrumptious,” it doesn’t come off too playful. But “yummy?” We’re not eating that yogurt stuff from “Teletubbies,” so it’d be in your interest to quit using vernacular that makes us believe so.
– Nut Roll – I’m only going to say this once Nut Roll, so listen very carefully. You are not a candy bar. That’s just the collar-popping truth, and the more you try to pretend you are, it makes me furious. Every time I see you creepily nestled in the candy aisle when I’m just trying to get my hands on a Charleston Chew in peace, I think of just how dangerous you are to society. A wolf in nuts’ clothing. Nothing with grainy protein ever satisfied my late-night hunger. If you want to fit in, I’m sure there is open-armed space for you at a Whole Foods somewhere, but not where people engage in more nougat binges.
– Single-panel cheese graters – Are you trying to make me feel like a failure? There is one thing we as a society want – dare I say, need – and that’s to enjoy a perfectly good taco. You were given one job: to take all this big cheese and turn it into little cheeses to sprinkle on said taco. But no. You take it upon yourself to form an awkward shape, have zero gripping at the bottom and fail to remember the one scientific fact all of us remember: “Inertia is a property of matter” (Thanks, Bill Nye.) At the end of every attempt, you end up flat on a countertop covered in half-heartedly shredded cheese chunks and I end up flat on the kitchen floor in hysterics because the miracle of dairy-inspired gooeyness will never be mine. It hurts bad, and it’s like you don’t even care. Is there no shame?
– Floam – What do you stand to gain as a bad Play-Doh and sand mixture? If you aren’t going to improve, then retire.
– Travis Pastrana – So, I totally forgot why I put you on the list. You’re awesome. Never change.
– People who granola their cereal – Stop, stop, stop pretending you’re eating healthy. Cereal was created to be the black-market flu shot of meals. Crumbly oatmeal flakes do nothing to enhance the quality of your Raisin Bran outside of it popping out in your Instagrams. I’m sorry, but someone had to tell you.
Whew. It’s nice to have that off my chest. I feel better already, and I know you will to. Face it, ranting is our way as a society. Whether you’re a disgruntled student, an impatient professor or Sanka from “Cool Runnings,” always remember your sovereign right as a card-carrying citizen. Roll up those peeves and just say something. Don’t be bashful; we all do it, or at least we will. #freedom
– Steve Schwartzman is a senior finishing a degree in communication studies. With eight years of column writing and improvational comedy under his belt, he lives to make you laugh. Send thoughts to steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu