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Berman Must Be Stopped: editiorial We,
like so many other frustrated, homicidal males just looking for
a pathetic moment’s solace in a world conspiring to rob
us of our sanity, like to watch televised sports. We’re
not insane, we don’t buy the NBA package, but would watch
at least some of it if we had say, six months mortgage in the
bank. But we don’t. So we and many others like us not only
root for our home team but have also become big fans of the Mountain
West Conference because their games are free on The Deuce at like,
1am. We like New Mexico’s backcourt. Anyway,
the point is this:
While we like sports announcers, and like hyperbole, Chris
Berman should be put in a hyperbolic chamber and shot
into space. He is insane. Look at his eyes: he’s burned
through several pair and now has a mismatched blue/hazel combo.
Look at his hair: it’s so frighteningly out of style horn
players from ‘70s bands think it’s out of style. He
sweats like a narc on an Air Colombia flight. And yet he keeps
spewing idiot pseudo-clever nicknames like a talking Macy’s
Thanksgiving balloon on a crack i.v. The people from Roget’s
Thesaurus have called ESPN and said, “Enough.”
One night Dan Patrick actually managed to get
a sock in Berman’s mouth, but Berman swallowed it whole
and then referred to a Packers’ offensive lineman as “Mark
‘Fall Of The House Of’ Tauscher!”
Please, ESPN, we beg you: Shoot Chris Berman into
space.
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