FanNation

Sitting down at my computer, I relax and spend some quality time looking through SI and ESPN. Looking over to the side, I notice a link saying "Clicking here for immediate access to SportsLand". Intrigued by the message, I pressed the button. My body was teleported as soon as I pressed the button.

I arrived at my unknown destination. It was a large room that looked like a huge labratory. Except this labratory had huge HD tvs all over the ceiling that played current sports games. Then I looked at eye level and saw one of the most amazing sights ever. There were thousands of people at computers, all watching and typing or typing and watching on their screens. All were the size of midgets and wore jerseys or other outfits.

One, wearing a blue coat, walked up to me. "Welcome," he said,"to SportsLand, where every aspect of sports is controlled." Wow, I thought. "What do you mean?" "What do you mean, what do you mean," he replied. "This is where everything is controlled. We make sports what it is. We make humans do everything in sports. We control them. Understand?" he said. Not quite. "Every athlete's lives is shown on these tvs or computers, and we assign each widdle to a specific person. The widdles control everything a person does. That is how we control sports."

Wow. I blew this off in my head because I knew there was no way it was true. "Take a look for yourself," the captain widdle said. As I gazed through the roomful of widdles, I saw them all wearing jerseys or shirts of the player they were  assigned to. There was Kobe's widdle. "Hey Kobe," I said. "Yeah?" he answered back. "Thanks a lot for hurting his back yesterday," I said in all jokes. "Sorry, he was just playing too well," Kobe widdle stated. What? I asked myself. There is no way this place is true. On the tv screens and computer screens were videos playing of each athlete and what they were doing currently in their lives.

There was Romo's widdle, adjusting his vocal chords at the Cub's game so that he couldn't sing at all. Hey, look it is Roger Clemen's widdle watching a video of......well, nevermind. Let's just say it involved teenagers. Great, Barry Bond's widdle. I had to talk to him. "Alright, once and for all. Did he or didn't he?" I asked. "Duh. Have you seen the growth of his head? We have been trying to give humans every thing to make them realize the truth, but they won't do anything about it." Wow. I move on.

Hey, O.J. Mayo's widdle. His computer screen shows nothing but large plasma tvs and 30K shining on the wallpaper. Next is Terrell Owen's widdle. "Did you make Owens cry at the press conference?" I asked. "Haha. Actually, he did that one on his own," was the reply. And finally, I came to the end with a widdle watching nothing but old NFL games from a few years ago. "Oh, just enjoying yourself?" I asked. "No, I am Bill Belichick's widdle," he says.