What football will look like in the future
www.sbnation.com
Something is terribly wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

Here's a short description of it, but it seems like one of those weird interesting experiences that are the coolest when you just stumble into them, so if you've got some free time and that sounds like the kind of thing you enjoy give it a shot :)

Side note, when looking into the author I found this-

In 2018, Bois collaborated with Felix Biederman of Chapo Trap House on the five-part documentary "Fighting In the Age of Loneliness", presented in style influenced by British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis, which focuses on the development of Mixed Martial arts from the early development of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Vale Tudo in the development of more complex fighting styles. It focuses on the development of Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) as a mainstream sport, including Pride Fighting Championship and the development of Ultimate Fighting Championships, and their parallels to the 21st century neoliberal socio-political landscape of financial collapse and inequality.

I haven't gone through it yet so I'll probably edit this later when I have

  • MarxistJeb [he/him]
    ·
    4 years ago

    Jon Bois is fucking nice with it, easily the most unique "sports writer". I really enjoy this excerpt from one of his articles about messing with NBA2K by introducing a class of godlike players every single year that pushes out all the real players eventually.

    I would imagine you have, or had, a friend you have never seen in years, and don't expect ever to see again. The two of you built sand castles, or tried to build a skateboard ramp, or drank Beam out of a bottle in a glossy yellow-bricked dorm room. For one reason or another, you no longer do those things, or any things, together, and the reasons behind that are none of my business. Neither is this, but I've already barged in: the last time the two of you met, or spoke, you suspected it would be the very last time.

    To openly treat it as such -- the last meeting of two people across all eternity -- is a sort of a fraction of a death, and is too heavy for the moment: something that heavy would bust the framework, you would call from Dallas, and there wouldn't be a last time. This is the quiet knowledge that it's over, and the tense words that replace the processing of that knowledge.

    Kyrie Irving is that friend, and this is that time. He's 30, and with the Pistons now. In a team otherwise entirely filled with Immortals, Kyrie starts at point, leading his team in assists and ranking second in scoring. He's a foot shorter and five years older than everyone. He does not give a damn. He -- the mortal -- has led Detroit to the NBA Finals. On behalf of all of us, who dribble off our feet and neglect our marriages and cut ourselves shaving, Kyrie Irving presents one last goodbye to the Immortals.