Pre-Sports Music

Calm. Mild Mannered. Even keeled. These are terms that many people would probably use to describe me. Like most people, I tend to get pumped up and act like a contestant on "Wild and Crazy Kids" when I am with my friends. At work, church, pumping gas, or when I am covertly buying feminine hygiene products for the wife I am a pretty low-key dude. Shop at The Gap, listen to 1580 AM radio, have a lab, drive a Subaru, enjoy eating chicken at most meals, and I have no tattoos, body piercings, facial hair, or even gel in my hair. Boring, normal, white American.

This all changes when I am gearing up to play the high octane, severely contact sports that are tennis, Ultimate frisbee, and long distance running (but not too long distance thanks to my chronic asthma and love of all things chocolate). As I drive to the public parks to play these sports played by fathers, grandfathers, church goers, and girls I have to be 100% amped up for destruction. When I gently toss the frisbee so it floats over the head of that guy I know from the local organization against under age drinking and right into the hands of the girl who is in a prayer group with my wife I need adrenaline coursing through my veins like Bulls On Parade.

Bulls On Parade by Rage Against The Machine. This is one of my classic songs that I listen to as I drive 3 miles over the speed limit to play a pick up game of a sport where "The disk never lies" is how one decides confrontation. Please take the time to picture me driving down the road in my Subaru littered with stickers from National Parks while banging my head and screaming at the top of my lungs to the following lyrics.

"Come wit it now!
Come wit it now!
The microphone explodes, shattering the molds
Ya either drop tha hits like de la O or get tha f*** off tha commode
Wit tha sure shot, sure ta make tha bodies drop
Drop an don't copy yo, don't call this a co-opt
Terror rains drenchin', quenchin' tha thirst of tha power dons
That five sided fist-a-gon
Tha rotten sore on tha face of mother earth gets bigger
Tha triggers cold now empty ya purse

they rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells

Weapons not food, not homes, not shoes
Not need, just feed the war cannibal animal
I walk tha corner to tha rubble that used to be a library
Linin' to the mind cemetery now
What we don't know keeps tha contracts alive an movin'
They don't gotta burn tha books they just remove 'em
While arms warehouses fill as quick as tha cells
Rally round tha family, pockets full of shells

Rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells
They rally round tha family! With a pocket full of shells

Bulls on parade!
Bulls on parade!
Bulls on parade!
Bulls on parade!
Bulls on parade!"

Notice how I put *stars* where the cuss word is in the song. I didn't do that simply because my wife would beat me up if I cussed on my blog, I did that because that is what I do when I am yelling along with Zack de la Rocha. I sing every word except for the curse words.

Another favorite of mine to listen to before I play in these games is "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZ8_dswW-18&feature=related

Yep, when I sit in church every week and sing lyrics like "You're the light in this darkness, you're the hope to the hopeless" apparently I am really thinking "The world is a vampire, sent to drain. Secret destroyers hold you up to the flame".

What is wrong with me? Why must I listen to music that promotes anarchy and despair before playing some of the most peaceful sports ever invented by man? Why do lyrics that don't jive with who I am as a person seem to pump me up so much? Is it necessary for me to believe that I would rally around my family with a pocket full of shells while secret destroyers hold me up to flame just to volley a little fuzzy greenish yellow ball back at my opponent?

I don't know, but I do know that upon reaching my destination I am eager to violently embarrass my opponent, I am ready to punch someone in the gut as I slowly count to ten while they hold a frisbee looking for an open man, and more than anything I am just really really worn out and ready to take a nap.