Bupkes of champions

Joe Mazzulla says everything about nothing better than anything of ours ever could.

We at The Bupkes are astute purveyors of the great breadth of the many civilizational gifts modernity has bestowed upon us. But we admit our blind spots. Sports is one of them.

Much as we wish we could — and, trust us, we’ve tried! — it is beyond our intellectual capacities to care much about the fates of multimillion-dollar commodities in human form. Even when their feats of physical strength and endurance are, admittedly, formidable.

Spending a large swath of the day consuming copious amounts of overpriced beer while thousands of people around you seem wound up ready to sack Rome because their side or the other has moved a ball from one place to another has, strangely, never appealed to us. While we appreciate and respect the sports franchise objective of generating billions of dollars in licensing rights, ads, and merch (isn’t that why we’re all here?) so the masses have something else to think about besides their cosmic doom, we find ourselves only thinking more about our own.

Also, …