Sitting at home on a Friday night, I managed to stumble across something wonderful on the television. I’m sure everyone has heard of the Lingerie Bowl–but did you know there’s actually Lingerie Football League? It’s was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in months…and not for the reasons you’d think.
The LFL is horrible, hideous, and the most pathetic business venture I’ve seen since my parents decided to open up their own restaurant. The football was beyond bad. The announcers took their job too seriously. And the uniforms looked like a pathetic attempt at creating risqué Halloween costumes. Maybe it’s the part of me that loves watching a train wreck, but I couldn’t look away. I found myself laughing, crying, and wishing I had a bunch of buddies over so I could watch the spectacle with other train wreck fans.
Where do I begin? Wow. Speechless–I feel speechless. I don’t know what to mock first!
I guess we’ll start with the football. As gridiron junkie, I can appreciate good football like a Frenchman saviors a fine cheese. What these girls were playing couldn’t be called football–ten-year olds play better football than what I saw (at least 10-year olds try downfield passes). No one possesses any moves or skills. One girl holds the ball while four other girls jump on top of her.
…which is the real crux of the league. Let’s face it: the LFL was created so perverted old men could see girls in skimpy clothing. The problem with that is their clothes weren’t all that skimpy. With the shoulder pads and helmets, you didn’t get to see much. The LFL tries to sell the image of sex–but I don’t think anyone is buying.
The game was played in front of a “crowd” of a dozen (tops). Unless the TV adds thousands of empty seats, there was practically no one in the stand. I’m not talking about a “no one goes to see the Florida Marlins” crowd–I’m talking “there are more people at a typical Thanksgiving dinner” crowd. I’m not exaggerating–there were maybe 20 people in the stands. The stadium was so quiet, I could hear what plays the coaches were calling.
I saw the game on a local UHF station–a local, podunk UHF station (its primetime lineup consists “Cheers” reruns and “Save by the Bell” repeats; the weekends are nonstop infomercials). The station has no money: there’s no way they were spending cash for the rights to air LFL games. If this station had any money, it’d shell out the big bucks and get the syndication rights for “The Cosby Show.”
Despite the gawdawful product on the field, the broadcasters, players, and coaches all tried to act like they were doing something serious. I felt like I was watching a practical joke that none of the victims were aware of. The play-by-play announcer took his job seriously. He was wowed by the action, mesmerized by the plays, and had enthusiasm generally reserved for first-time lottery winners. The sideline reporter interviewed players with respect–completely ignoring the absurdity of it all. Even the coaches barked out plays and expressed frustration over poor execution (I hate to break it to you, but the LFL is NOT a stepping stone to the National Football League…or even a junior college job).
You’d think there are some girls out there who can play football. They might not be able to compete with the pros, but they probably could catch and throw a ball. I’m not a small-minded sexist: I believe there are women who like to play football. I believe there are women with athletic talent (see: the girls who humiliate me in soccer class). I know it’s possible to find women who can catch and throw because I’ve seen it.
And yet the girls of the LFL have the athletic ability of my mother. I wonder what sorta tryouts or criteria are required to pay in the league. The QB for Los Angeles couldn’t throw the ball more than five yards (and it was a wobbly duck). Her receivers couldn’t catch. I found myself wondering if this was truly the best they could find. Some of the gals I played softball with had rockets for arms–they could throw hard. Maybe the tryout was like an audition for Playboy(please send a snapshot of yourself in a bikini). How much the players of the LFL get paid. It can’t be much–there’s no money coming in. Twenty bucks a game? Plus dental. Ah, maybe I shouldn’t knock it–at least they have jobs. They might not have dignity, but they have jobs.
I watched the game because I revel in bad–but I can’t see anyone actually enjoying it. I know men are pervs, but I can’t possibly see this thing turning out to be a success. Sure, the Lingerie Bowl works during halftime of the Super Bowl–but that’s because it’s a novelty. This is the equivalent of “Saturday Night Love” turning a five-minute, one-joke sketch into a 90-minute movie (I’m looking at you, “A Night at the Roxbury”). It’s something people might check out–but it isn’t a product that can have long-term success. Who thought this was going to be a good idea?
After the game, I went to the LFL’s website. Why? Because I enjoy a train wreck! While navigating through the website, I managed to find myself staring at the rosters of the two teams I saw play. I was shocked to see that neither team’s quarterback was listed on the official roster. In fact, of the 15-gal rosters, only a handful of names actually played in the game. I’m not sure what’s more pathetic: having a poor, outdated website when an organization wants its product to be taken serious…or being the schmuck who can recognize the rosters were out of date.