The World Series has taken over prime-time television, and it’s about to finish its two-week reign. Anyone who has investment in a prime-time television series has had to sit back and chill.
“Glee” fans have had to hold off from skipping along to their favorite musical numbers. Others were left deprived on Monday from missing their weekly dose of cynicism from Dr. House.
Who enjoys watching baseball anyway? It’s got to be the least concise of all sports. Its play stretches out across nine innings. I mean croquet could instill a greater sense excitement, if you’re with the right kind of people.
Where’s the adrenaline? Where’s the rush? Who, today, has the attention span to be able to sit and watch three hours of sports content that moves at a snail’s pace? And even then, have the stamina to watch seven games for the final pair-up of the World Series?
Between every painstakingly pointless play, some elderly commentator in his 70s feels entitled to enumerate exactly what you’re seeing on the television screen. It’s like he’s trying to help out his vision-impaired buddies back at the nursing home from spilling their pudding while scooting closer to the television.
And on top of it, these commentators read off an endless slew of batting statistics, each one having its equally as ridiculous acronym. How complicated can it get? Either Jeter is going to hit the ball, or he’s not.
I’ll think America has had enough of baseball this season. The World Series needs to slide down a couple more channels so the major networks can have their prime-time television series back. I’ll get much more entertainment out of “Fringe,” “Lie to Me,” “Bones,” heck, even “Desperate Housewives” any day.
— Nicholas Sauerberg
Designer
