There it is–on page 872 of Webster’s Dictionary. “Olympic Commentators” : \o-lim-pik – \ka- mun- ta- ters\ n.
1: Invisible voices who ruin otherwise palatable viewing of world’s finest athletes.
To qualify for the coveted job and accompanying perks (free world travel, accommodations, meals, official Olympic doo dads, new hair pieces and nifty navy blue blazers) a candidate must meet one or preferably, all of the following criteria:
- Feel the need to criticize everything from an athlete’s athletic ability to fashion statements and hair gel usage.
- Are likely in therapy dealing with their “quiet time” issue, since they don’t know when to stop talking and just let us watch.
- Ability to yell for days on end so viewers can hear them across the ocean. Must overlook fact they’re wearing a modern, high filtered, high powered microphone.
- Members of the male species who think they have the right to comment on the United States’ female atheletes fashions.
- Must be able to ad lib with witty lines like, “That is just unprecidented! That just isn’t done at the olympics! That has never been seen before in Olympic history!!!j And, “Is that a future Wheaties box or what?”
- Must be telepathic. This is useful during the opening ceremonies, when viewers can be treated to free psychic readings: “With the approach of the Israeli team, you will all undoubtedly be remembering the tragic Olympics of 1979 and the recent movie based on that tragic, tragic time.”
Later, when an athlete gazes out over the water in anticipation of their performance, the Commentator can enlighten viewers on the hidden thoughts of the athletes: “She’s now meditating on what she needs to do here.” or “He’s reviewing the course in his mind.” And let’s not forget, “I know her dead grandfather is with her now and she will think of only him as she takes her place on the block.”
They will also share profound insight into the minds of athlete’s family members. “There’s Mary’s mother in the stands. She has GOT to be thinking back on all those early mornings and long, long years of traveling from Remoteville, USA to the BigCity YMCA pool that led up to this day.”
How do they know? Either woman could be thinking, “Oh rats, did I turn off my curling iron before I left the village? Or, “A billion dollar building and only two stinking bars on my phone?”
Though probably not an Olympic athlete, I’d love to award a Gold Medal to the person who invented the television Mute button.
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