Why Men Shouldn't Dress Themselves Part 1: Sports Commentators Make My Soul and My Dresses Weep

I hate tv sports commentators.

They might possibly have the most unnecessary job in the history of the world.

Imagine any other activity or event in your life where someone constantly keeps you up to date with WHAT YOU'RE WATCHING WITH YOUR OWN EYES.

"Now, if you look over to this side of the room, you'll see the father-to-be is looking pretty anxious. He can't console his wife because the pain of labor is really hard on her".
"I agree, obviously, it's really hard on him too."
"That's right, Jack, but this man knows how to stay strong under pressure. He grew up in a garbage can after his parents sold him for a few slices of american cheese. He had his first job at the age of four, bagging groceries, and eventually paid his way through college, graduating by the time he was 13. It's no wonder why he's doing so great out here today."
"Boy howdy! And lets not forget about the dazzling mother-to-be! This is her third attempt at child birth. The first two were false starts. Both times she had started having contractions and took them to mean labor, but she was wrong. She was penalized 5 yards both times, but it looks like shes gonna pull through and win the game."

But if assaulting my brain weren't enough for these guys, they had to go and assault my eyes.

Seriously. Worst. dressed. ever.

Now look, I don't want to hear about your uncle who shows up to Thanksgiving dinner wearing t-shirts with holes in them, and tennis shoes with out socks but with holes in them, and cut off blue jean shorts with holes in them, and a curly mullet...which may or may not have holes in it. (oh wait, that's my uncle.) Because, the thing is, uncle Lester isn't dressing to impress. These guys hosting the NFL pregame show are.

It's like watching a really bad movie that knows its really bad versus watching a really bad movie that thinks it should get nominated for best picture.

Every time I see one of these ass clowns I can't help myself from screaming "WHO DRESSED YOU?!?! WHY DID ANYONE LET YOU ON THE AIR LIKE THAT? IT'S NOT OK TO WEAR A SHINY PINK POLKA DOT SHIRT WITH A YELLOW AND BLUE SHINY TIE, A NAVY 3 PIECE PINSTRIPE SUIT AND A PINK HANDKERCHIEF POKING OUT! JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE SINGULARLY REALLY NICE/EXPENSIVE PIECES OF CLOTHING DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD PILE ON AS MANY PIECES OF IT AS YOU CAN!! YOU LOOK LIKE AS ASS CLOWN!"

Ok, so really, who dresses these guys? I have two theories.

The First theory is, the commentators have to dress themselves. Every night, someone fills their dressing rooms with Armani suits, Hugo boss shirts, etc etc, and just leave them hanging there. And every night, each one of these guys is panic stricken and terrified at the thought of what to wear. So they either turn off the lights and grab things in the dark* or they leave the lights on and grab everything of the same color so it matches**.

My other theory is that some big wigs' fuck up son needed a job after his third DUI arrest in 6 months or else he would go to jail, so his dad tells him he's now in charge of dressing sports commentators. He goes out and picks up Armani suits, Hugo boss shirt, etc. etc. and every night when he must decide how what to dress these men in, he is panic stricken and terrified. So, he either turns off the lights and grabs things in the dark* or he leaves the lights on and grabs everything in the same color so it matches**.

Either way, men should never be in charge of dressing themselves (or others.)

Because this is the out come:

*


**


Alright, I'll be honest, those aren't that bad. I searched and searched the internet and couldn't find pictures that truly represent how douchey commentators were and how their clothing reflected that.

Oh wait.

i
get your own gum, dan.

Stay tuned for part 2: The pony tailed man