Preseason is now upon us, and that can only mean one thing: we are right around the corner from the best time of the year. That’s right: soon, you’ll get to alienate yourself by being the most rabid, most obsessive fan of the least popular Big Four sport in America. Can you smell it in the air? Ah. Eau de desperation, with distinct notes of please like my sport.
But what if it didn’t have to be this way? What if there was a way to convince your closest friends, the people you love and cherish with your whole self, to lower themselves into your chasm of depression and morbidity, effectively joining you in your sick, ugly quest to support the most mediocre sports team on planet Earth, probably in the entire galaxy?