Three hours to make six yards, there you go, I’m a statto

Tecmo Bowl (1989)

I’ve had a patchy relationship with American Football over the years. In the first instance, I don’t understand the game at all. And that’s the kind of thing that always makes me feel intellectually inadequate, because the stereotypical NFL fan is always the exact same.

You know, the squash-a-beer-can-against-their-head, wife-beater-wearing ignorant type of gun toting person. They seem to get what’s going on in a game. I don’t know, maybe they just like to see the numbers go up, and because there’s bigger and better numbers in American Football than there is in soccer, it’s got to be a better game. But even rugby seems to be more cerebral, when you look past games of soggy biscuit and peeing in your fly-half’s pint, so that doesn’t make sense either.

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