dallas cowboys 1, hate 0

Today’s question: can you really dub yourself “The National Evil” if you can’t hate worth a damn?

I was forced to ponder this while watching the ramp-up to the NFC Divisional Playoff Game (now there’s a ponderous title) pitting the Minnesota Vikings against the hated Dallas Cowboys. (Note: Evil’s loathing for the Cowboys is documented here. And in hundreds of journal pages ye shall never read.)

As game time approached, I noticed I wasn’t as disgusted by ESPN’s fawning Cowboy coverage as I always had been. And once the game began, I realized with the distressing lack of a sinking feeling that the furnace of fury in my soul had failed to sputter to life and direct raw, unfettered hatred Dallas-ways.

Apparently I don’t hate the Cowboys anymore. This after lambasting them less than 24 hours before game time. And I don’t know why.

It’s not as if my heart grew three sizes while watching the game. I don’t suddenly heart the Cowboys. It’s just that I no longer spleen them.

I suppose my feelings for them can best be personified in the form of their coach, Wade Phillips, a good-natured, doughy potato-sack of a man. He looks like he should be squinting at your power meter outside your house and relating unasked-for fishing anecdotes to all comers. You can’t hate that guy.

the national evil guide to picking an NFL team to love (or hate)

College football’s stodgy, Brooks-Brothers-of-sports big brother, the NFL, returns tonight. This is a league that fines its own players if their socks aren’t worn at the correct height, yet it is overwhelmingly the most popular sport in America. (Please refrain from forging agonized metaphors for what this says about our society.)

But what if you live in, say, Idaho? For whom do you root? Or just emigrated here from Cuba atop a milk-carton raft? You want to weave yourself fully into the fabric of Americana—but how?

Not by playing fantasy football, that’s for sure.

Herewith, a painfully simple guide for the football newbie. The National Evil offers up five worthy teams you can adopt wholeheartedly, plus a few mindless talking points you can bellow at anyone who questions the reason for your loyalty. As a bonus, Evil offers you a team to hate as well.

5 Teams You Can Root For (And Why):

Chicago Bears: They play outdoors! In Chicago! Da Bears, Ditka, great SNL sketches. The Super Bowl Shuffle. Walter Fucking Payton. (Say it that way. Don’t flinch.)

Green Bay Packers: They play outdoors! In Wisconsin! Lambeau Field. Lombardi. Only team owned by the fans, not some billionaire.

a tribute to the dallas cowboys, always a convenient target for unambiguous hatred

Thus begins and ends all that is good about the Dallas Cowboys.

Dallas plays Pittsburgh this afternoon, and this pairing caused the Evil to reflect on the status of the Cowboys in his life. Simply put, the Pokes are the one thing he can truly, cheerily, and profoundly despise in this muddy palette of grays we call life. And, as befits the National Evil, Cowboy-hating is a national pastime he shares with tens of millions of his fellow Americans.

The kicker here, though, is that Evil can’t recall any particular flashpoint of hatred toward Dallas. Though the Dallas/Pittsburgh culture wars of the 70s serve as the root of all anti-Cowboyism, Evil was only spawned in ’77. So no childhood rooting interest there. He doesn’t recall anyone specifically training him to hate the Cowboys. Football was watched but not obsessed over in his childhood home.

the football hater’s guide to the 2008 NFL season

Do not adjust your set . . . these uniforms really are that stupid.

Evil knows many of you, his esteemed readers, don’t care for the football. And, as he considers it important to humor these mistakes you call “opinions” or “feelings”, he’s been wrestling with a dilemma. The kind that throws itself off the top rope of trepidation wearing a Mexican wrestler’s mask of uncertainty.

The dilemma? How to write about football in a way that will soothe those of you who hate it? It took the Evil all of 20 seconds to decide—though rest assured, those were 20 of the most agonizing, irritating, and brow-furrowing seconds he ever endured.

Instead of arguing the merits of this running back, that offensive line, a revamped coaching staff, the Evil is fostering a healthy discussion of the 2008 NFL season based on quality of life. The question at hand: judging by the cities in which their teams are based, which NFL division would you call the best?

It breaks down thusly:

AFC East: Boston, Buffalo, Miami, New York.
AFC West: Denver, Kansas City, Oakland, San Diego.
AFC North: Baltimore, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Pittsburgh.
AFC South: Houston, Indianapolis, Jacksonville, Nashville.

NFC East: Dallas, New York, Philadelphia, Washington.
NFC West: Phoenix, San Francisco, Seattle, St. Louis.
NFC North: Chicago, Detroit, Green Bay, Minneapolis.
NFC South: Atlanta, Charlotte, New Orleans, Tampa.

To the Evil, the AFC West takes the cake. You’ve got San Diego’s perfect weather, the Bay Area, the Rockies, and legendary KC BBQ. And since San Diego is the class of its division, Evil supposes that makes the Chargers his pick to win Superbowl XLVIIXQ.

The worst? Gotta be the AFC South, with its murderer’s row of dismal metropoli. Think about it: when Nashville is by far the coolest city in any list not named “Best Cities for Opry Experiences,” you’re in trouble.

So that’s the game. Anyone care to disagree?