Let it be known: I hate sports. Even though I was adopted into and bred in the land of the Green Bay Packers, and then transplanted into the repulsive world of the Ohio State Buckeyes (shudder), I never understood it. I could never comprehend the excitement, the addiction, the blind faith and loyalty that one has toward a group of guys whose professional job it is to put a ball through a hole. Or hit it with a bat. Or kick it between those pole things they have in golf. Whatever. My point is, I don\'t care. I don\'t care who wins, loses, scores a foul, or gets crippled. I\'ve never rooted for a team or a player, followed a season or a record, or had a favorite or least favorite team of any sport. The closest I\'ve ever come is my somewhat ridiculous and tongue-in-cheek addiction to pro wrestling which, if you really knew me, you\'d know I enjoy watching more for the theatre of it all than I do the actual \"sports\" aspect of it.
Now, with all that being said, I do have something I\'d like to run past you. First, you should know that I am unbelievably rich. Like, sickly rich. If you saw how much money I had in my bank account you would throw up... just after you burst into violent tears. And it is with this ungodly amount of cash (the likes of which most of you will never see) that I would like to start up my very own professional sports team. That\'s right: moi, Wayne, the guy that hates all sports wants to start up his very own professional sports team. I\'ll get to exactly why I want to do this in a second. But first I should decide what sport I want to buy my way into.
Hmmm... so many to choose from. Well, baseball gets the \"lazy\" and \"boring\" stigma attached to it a lot. And basketball gets the \"venereal disease catcher/spreader\" and \"rapist\" tag quite a bit. Golfers get the \"gay\" thing, and bowlers get both \"fat\" and \"balding\". Man, no wonder I never wanted to play sports! Athletes are a pretty horrible lot of people, aren\'t they? Oh! What about football? Yeah... hulking, gurgling ogres grunting at each other about \"sacks\" and \"tight ends\" and whatnot. That\'s kind of hot, right? And besides, people love football. I mean, they\'ll spend a ton of cash on that shit, right? Like, pointy fingers and jerseys and steroids and shit. Cool, it\'s settled.
So that brings me to my whole point of this article, and that is the following question: Do you think if an independently wealthy person approached a city (say, Milwaukee) and said that they wanted to bring a professional sports team (say, football) to said city at no cost to either the city itself or its taxpayers, and that he/she would pay out of pocket for all expenses-- including the players, the stadium, promotional materials, jerseys, etc.-- literally every dime of it, do you think that the city would graciously and unflinchingly accept the proposal if the wealthy person\'s only request were that the team be named something completely and absolutely risqué and ridiculous (say, the Milwaukee Brown-Eyes)? Well, if you think a city would answer yes to that question, then Milwaukee has a deal! And I would then like to officially announce my offer to make the Milwaukee Brown-Eyes a reality!
Luckily, I\'ve got it all planned out already, so once I get the green light I can set all of my dreams in motion. First, a pro sports team needs a mascot, right? You got it. And the Milwaukee Brown-Eyes will be no different. Our mascot will be named Stinky, and he will be the talk of the NFL. Basically, he\'ll just be a big brown circle with one huge brown eye right in the middle of his... head-like... brown circle thing. Oh! And he\'ll have a huge mouth right in the middle, and it will kind of be pursed and puckered, like he\'s about to say, \"Oooooo!!! Catch the foooootball!!!\" He won\'t have ears or a nose (thankfully), but he\'ll have skinny, flesh-toned arms and legs, and a bright yellow, three-fingered glove on each hand. That way he can walk around the stadium, hugging little kids and giving them chocolate bars and glasses of lemonade! Kids love chocolate and lemonade! The kids will yell from their seats: \"Mmmm... thanks, Stinky the Brown-Eye!\"
And that brings me to the stadium I will erect for all my Brown-Eye fans: Wayne Chinsang\'s Sphinctorium! We\'re talking some state-of-the-art shit here, folks. More hi-tech than the Pentagon, and prettier than Gehry\'s Guggenheim in Bilboa, Spain, the Sphinctorium will widen the brown eyes of even the most close-minded and uppity Republican. Let me tell you all about the stadium\'s many fly-ass features.
First, everyone hates having to get up and go to the bathroom during a great game, because what if the football guys score five points while you\'re draining your lizard (or vagina, for you girls)?!? That would suck! So in the Sphinctorium, your seat will be a toilet! Gotta pinch a stink during the game? Go right ahead! Gonna drink yourself into oblivion until you wretch? No worries! Just turn around and go to town!
And as if that isn\'t already the dopest concept in the world, let me tell you about the retractable roof we\'re gonna have covering this bad boy. The roof of the Sphinctorium will open and close like an... iris of an eyeball. When it opens, it will start with a tiny little hole no bigger than a pinprick; next thing you know, it\'ll be busted as wide-open as a gangbang all-star! Damn!
Also, the team will have its own blimp that hovers above the park during every home game. It will be the team color (brown, of course) and called the Hindenturd. At the start of each game the roof will open, and the blimp will shoot out of the hole and into the sky! From the right angle it will look like Mother Earth herself is shooting a 600-foot-long poo stick into the heavens! It will be beautiful. Ah... beautiful.
So, there ya have it. My plans to bring a big money-making NFL team to the fine city and citizens of Milwaukee. I\'ve got the cash and the vision, as long as you\'ve got the patience... and you have to promise to wear our official Milwaukee Brown-Eyes merchandise. I mentioned all the merchandise is gonna smell like shit, right?