Meth and Soccer

             I’ve recently been going through some hard times.  Addiction.  Yeah.  Coffee.  I’ve got it under control.  I mean, I’m not performing unspeakable acts in dark alleys for coffee cash.  It’s not like that. 

            It’s just… I’ve been trying to quit. 

            It’s hard. 

            I’ve been going to meetings.  I’m not sure they’re doing any good. 

            I’ve been thinking about meth a lot lately.  And not in a flattering way.  I’ve been thinking about how I can’t handle coffee anymore—how is it meth fiends manage to keep their hearts from leaping out of their chests in anger and starting a revolution?  I can’t say that I understand the appeal to meth.  But then, I don’t understand the appeal to soccer, either, and soccer’s huge.  Worldwide. 

            I say that jokingly, but there’s some strange similarities between the two. 

            Meth and soccer. 

            I mean, soccer for kids is one thing.  It’s fine entertainment for ‘em.  Grown adults taking it seriously, on the other hand?  That’s a whole ‘nother monster. 

            I know if a friend came to me out of the blue and I asked him why he was all sweaty and winded and he said, “I just ran thirty-two miles chasing a little checkered ball around,” my first reaction would presumably be drug-related.

            “I don’t understand.  Were the cops after you?”

            “No.”

            “You ran thirty-two miles and the police were not after you?”

            “No.”

            “You ran thirty-two miles chasing a little checkered ball around and the police were in no way involved?”

            “Correct.”

            I would just naturally assume he had to be on drugs. 

            I just don’t get it.  The only part of the game I feel like I can really understand is the rioting.  And not because I agree with violence or riots.  It’s just that, by the time something actually happens, people are so tense with anticipation they explode.  They’re ready to bring the house down. 

            “They scored!!!”

            “I know!!!  They scored!!!  Something actually haaappeeeeened!  Woooooooooooooh!”

            “This is aaawwesooooome!”

            “Let’s start a frikkin’ riiiooooot!  Wooooooooooooooh!”

             This is why I don’t like really suspenseful movies.  Never cared for the rioting.