February allows a foray into the world of chocolate candies, homemade valentine cards, and blissfully delirious hugging. These heartfelt tokens of love likely will be exchanged as the television runs soothingly in the background, the faint �oooh�s and �aaaah�s of another concussion/broken rib combo brought to us all by the XFL.
February 3rd marks the debut of the XFL, brainchild of eccentric professional wrestling mogul Vince McMahon. McMahon believes that America is interested (or obsessed) enough by football to embrace a new season of games immediately following the NFL�s Super Bowl. While �XFL� technically stands for �Extreme Football League�, the league�s marketing department has made concerted and special efforts to refer to is as the �Extra Fun League�. This strategy has been employed in hopes of seeking an audience that may be offended by game rules that are unquestionably viscous and violent, and, when all is said and done, may just be a little cadaverous. The bloodthirsty nature of the XFL will hopefully be downplayed by an �Extra Fun� smokescreen that seems eerily familiar to Kentucky Fried Chicken�s campaign to eliminate the word �fried�, and to religiously refer to the company as �KFC�. In both cases, where morbid apathy for health is concerned, it�s best not to call attention.
�Some suggest that the NFL stands for the no fun league. The XFL is going to be the extra fun league�, a grinning McMahon reports during the XFL�s inaugural press conference. �We will take to you places where the NFL is afraid to take you� this will be a blast�. So where, exactly, is the NFL afraid to take us? Well, judging from the official rules of the �Extra Fun League�� either the hospital or the morgue.
Players not quite talented enough to become millionaires in the National Football League will start with base salaries of 30-50 thousand dollars. There are incentive clauses in all contracts to the tune of 2500 per win and 25,000 for a championship, with the promise of far more exposure than could ever be offered by competing semi-pro football leagues, such as the Arena. These athletes will be the finest non-NFL football players in the world, all competing for a chance to one-day be considered among the elite and to land an NFL job. The assorted line-ups include late round NFL draft choices who never made the cut, anonymous walk on�s who fought tooth and nail to escape hourly wage labor, and former NFL stars who have fallen from grace. A veritable all-star cast of mean, hungry individuals who will have one thing on their mind: making the highlight reels. Late night �Sportscenter� episodes will be their ticket to catching an NFL scout�s eye and cashing in their XFL career for the greener (cha-ching) pastures of Pro ball.
So the question for all XFL�ers now becomes: �How do I make the highlights�. Well, that one�s simple. You do something extreme. Hence the name. The main point of extreme interest for the XFL has been one little rule change in particular, and it has been intriguing enough -- in a car accident type of way -- to attract names such as Jesse Ventura and Matt Vasgersian and Dick Butkus to assume roles as either broadcasters or coaches. The little rule change: no fair catches. Before announcer Vasgersian inked a deal with the league, he stated that he�d be watching for �One reason. No fair catches�. In the XFL, when a hovering punt is floating above the return man�s head and he sees angry, snarling men charging at him like runaway trains -- he can�t wave his arms about the air and catch the football uninterrupted. Nope. He�s gotta catch it and run. Or, at least try to catch it and survive. Despite the fact that the NFL introduced this rule as a means of protecting players from becoming sitting ducks in a pool of professional snipers, the XFL has implied it is part of what makes pro football �no fun�. Trust me: the thin return specialist who patiently waits for a hovering punt to drop into his arms -- while athletic monsters are charging at his body knowing full well that this moment, the �no fair catch�, is the main selling point for the league and that the greater physical harm they are able to inflict the better -- won�t think it�s too much fun.
Apparently, Vince McMahon isn�t the only one who thinks America wants to plop down on the couch and watch the decapitation of grown men. NBC -- in a move just short of introducing gladiatorial Roman fights as part of legal, censor approved weekend programming -- has purchased 50% of the XFL. NBC sports chairman Dick Ebersol plans to broadcast games in prime time on Saturday nights, ensuring that all men, women, and influential young children will be able to see an 175 pound kick returner driven mercilessly into the turf by a fleet of professional hit-men.
In fact, �Hitmen� is the team name of the NY/NJ franchise.
Vince McMahon has become filthy rich from the concept of muscular body-builders dressing in tights and jumping from ropes and cages in admittedly scripted fashion. He has even been coined a �genius� from various financial circles for his ability to parlay his WWF into one of Wall Street�s hottest stocks. So who is anyone to question the economic success of his latest entrepreneurial venture? The genius McMahon has seduced NBC (the top network in the land) into collaborating in his unethical scheme, with plenty of dollar signs being the potential reward.
They�re banking on millions of Americans setting aside their Saturday nights and inherent moral values and tuning in to �The Extra Fun League�.
Sadly enough� I�ll be one of those millions.