As you might have heard, it’s cold outside in large portions of the country today. It’s so cold that (PSA: there is no punchline forthcoming) the National Weather Service has warned citizens of Chicago that frostbite can set in after just five minutes of exposure to such extreme temperatures. Has this deadly frost stopped the Football People from stupidly praising their football men for braving the cold dressed like they’re at a fucking tiki bar in Ybor City? I regret to inform you that it has not.
I know that is a homerific (and factually misleading!) example of football’s irritating fetish for underdressed men hanging out in the cold, but it’s hardly the only example. Take this from a couple weeks ago:
Or this one:
Or, ugh, this one:
Or take official Haughty Dipshit Gregggggggggggg Easterbrook, who has spent the past two decades filling up precious web space by heaping drooling praise upon both coaches and cheerleaders for showing skin in subarctic temperatures. This is because Gregggggg likes tough men, and because he’s always horny.
Now, I am a card-carrying snowboy. I grew up in frigid Minnesota. I may have even underdressed in the cold as a youth, like the bold young Mother-Fearer pictured here:
You see that kid rocking shorts when it’s below zero out and what’s your first thought? Oh, well he’s a fucking idiot. Correct. That’s the correct take. Miles is a dumb young goof who thinks he can get away with literally freezing his balls off, but Mother Nature has almost certainly taught him a harsh lesson. Everywhere else in life, you are encouraged to bundle up when it’s literally colder than the South Pole outside.
And yet, the football culture remains hopelessly behind, like it always has been. I’m supposed to revere these assholes for defying Jack Frost by wearing Borat’s green mankini out in a blizzard when A) They’re usually large men with plenty of internal padding and B) They’re about to engage in a physical activity that helps raise the body temperature. And the fans are even worse. If you’re over 300 pounds and ass loaded and you go to Lambeau at Christmastime wearing nothing but body paint, a TV camera WILL find you. You’ll get your moment in the sun: the frozen, blinding, indifferent sun.
Enough already. This routine is older than Chris Berman’s on-air patter. Underdressing in the cold doesn’t make you special or tough or a REAL man who drives a fucking pickup truck. You’re just another obnoxious jackass. Take it from me. Like I said, when I was a moron kid I definitely put on shorts when the mercury hit 30 outside so that everyone would know I was a cool kid who could handle it. I was not and I am not. It’s 17 outside my house right now, and if I go out it’ll be in enough layers for a walk on the fucking moon. I’m not stupid. God forbid the NFL ever learns a similar lesson.