Sunday Funnies: The Five Worst 'Sports'

(AP Photo/Alan Diaz, File)

The worst sports, ever.

1. Women’s Lacrosse (pre-2023)

What do I mean, pre-2023? The governing body changed the rules beginning this season, but I hate this sport so much it’s still at the top of the list.


About 5 years ago I attended a Ladies’ college lacrosse match. It was easily the most ridiculous excuse for a sport I had ever been forced to watch. I couldn’t just leave because I was invited by the player’s mom and dad. The ladies had to stop moving after every foul. And there were lots of fouls. If a player looked wrong at another player. Foul! Freeze! And I don’t mean stop the play, I mean turn into statues. The ladies would freeze as if everyone got tagged at the same time. And, they weren’t allowed to shoot a hard shot. As in, no shots on goal that had any velocity. It was like they had to ask for permission from the goalie. This bastardized version of lacrosse looked like it had been invented in the 1940s by Miss Manners – and no one ever bothered to update the rules.

2.  Cricket

Appropriately named after an annoying bug. Don’t correct me, I don’t care why it is called cricket – it’s annoying. I don’t pretend to understand this bloody game. I don’t want to. This looks like professional recreation, not a sport. Sure it’s played by half the English-speaking planet and players are handsomely paid to hit a ball with an oversized flyswatter. But Americans don’t play it in masse and that means it isn’t a sport. Those are the rules.

3. Cycling

I don’t mean like Tour De France cyclists – those are athletes, I mean the jackasses you encounter every weekend. You’ve seen them. Dudes wearing Spanex that they might have been able to fit into, 30 pounds ago, taking up the streets, three and four abreast. They are collectively blind too. That’s the only valid excuse I can think of why they universally run red lights and blow-through stop signs. I guess they all have get-out-of-jail-free cards because I have yet to see one of them pulled over for running a red light or a stop sign. I have a road bike. When I ride it I’m wearing a loose shirt and shorts – I don’t wear Spandex like I’m headed to Comicon as The Flash. Sure I have some built-in bigotry. My neighbor is a jerk and he bikes with his Spandex bros. Yeah. Get off my lawn!

4. Travel Youth Soccer

“Travel” [any sport] is expensive but since I only experienced travel soccer I will rag on it. Insert your own sport, otherwise. It isn’t the sport that bugs me. It’s not the kids. It’s everything else. I never added up the cost for our one son who did that through high school, because I didn’t want to have a panic or heart attack. It’s very expensive. I guess it’s “worth it” if your kid gets a scholarship. Mine did, but for most of his mates, it was a losing proposition. And deluded parents think their kid is headed for the big time. They are the worst. Every game it was the same cabal of parents threatening a bloody coup because their kid didn’t play enough. In one game a kid didn’t start the second half. His mom yelled at the coach grabbed her kid’s arm, and dragged him home. I’d be ok with Travel Soccer if the parents just stayed home.

5. Polo

Rich snobs sitting on ponies smacking a ball around while rich snobs drink overpriced wine and yell: “Bloody good shot, chap!” Prince Harry (of Harry and Meghan fame) flew across the Pacific Ocean to play a polo match just a few days ago. Without a bit of irony or shame, Harry tells the unwashed masses (that’s you and me) that we need to stop driving gas-driven cars or the world is doomed; all while he’s jetting to Singapore to play polo with his rich chums.


Honorable mention: Running of the Bulls

Pamplona, Spain. A bunch of dummies run in front of scared animals that have deadly pikes growing out of their heads. There is also a “team sport” version where eight guys form a line in front of a bloodied bull and taunt the bull until he charges. At the moment of impact, the dude in front tries to ride the bull’s head and horns. The rest of Team Jackass (called forcados)  wrestle with the bull to disgorge the first dummy. I’ll root for the bull, every time.

I wonder what these guys will say when St. Peter asks:

“How did you die?”

“Oh, After I  taunted a bull and ran, I was gored between my cheeks”

“Yeah, you go to hell”

What are your choices for the worst sports ever?



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