The Prehistoric Super Bowl

Long before the Super Bowl we know, there was a great annual sporting event of which our Super Bowl is just the faintest echo.

Archeologists have discovered the remains of the original three-sided field where they played for the hai-baba-rebab championship of the entire Wadja-Noh civilization. As this encompassed all the lands and cities between the Oxus and the Amu Darya rivers, in the vast reaches of central Asia, you can imagine the title game was a major event.

Scholars have not yet deciphered all the rules of the game, but we know enough to say it was very similar to football: except that instead of an air-inflated football, a 35-pound granite cube was used. This militated against punt plays; but a successful field goal meant an instant, automatic victory.

In those barbaric days, the losing team was beheaded and the heads auctioned off to the fans. These were collectible.

The recently-translated Epic of Hai de Ho, Big Man of Touchdowns tells us that the championship game was called the Ho Khum, and was preceded, and frequently interrupted, by short dramas of a religious nature. These often attracted more attention than the game itself. There were also contests among the fans to see who could perform the most prodigious acts of gluttony while watching the game–which usually took up 12 hours, or even more. The epic claims that Hai’s number one fan, Tubbo Gutz, finally burst open and died as a result of overeating.

When the Proto-Sumerians conquered Wadja-Noh, circa 7,000 B.C., they abolished the game of hai-babba-rebab in favor of gladiatorial combats, which they said were much nicer and more conducive to the progress of civilization. The final championship game was played between the cities of Ay-dunno and Ay-dunkayr, to a scoreless tie whose monotony was alleviated by several choking deaths among the fans and a memorable series of religious playlets during the game.

These little shreds of information are all that remain of a once-great nation.

P** on my Leg and Tell Me It’s Raining

Some of you think chess is boring; but I don’t think many of you would think that a $2.55 million prize purse is boring.

This year’s World Chess Championship–in which Viswanathan Anand (India) defends his title against the top-rated player in the world, Magnus Carlsen (Norway)–offers a purse of more than two-and-a-half million smackers, 60% to the winner, 40% to the loser. That ought to make it exciting, right?

Wrong. So far, this is the worst “world championship chess” I’ve ever seen.

Maybe I’m old-fashioned; but I think chess games between the two top players in the world ought to be good games, packed with drama, tension, brilliancy, and art. But the first three games of this match have been terrible.

In Game One they went 13 moves into the game, and while still in the opening phase, repeated their moves three times in a row to force an automatic draw. In Game Two they went a few moves longer before again forcing a draw by repetition of moves. And in Game Three they actually got into the middle game–then, seeming to lose interest, they exchanged all their pieces (chess as a fire sale?) until they had none left, thus forcing yet another automatic draw.

I wonder what a ticket costs. Anything over 49 cents, you got robbed.

A few commentators have tried to defend this fiasco by saying, “Well, hey, these guys play at such a high level, only a few of the top grand masters of chess can hope to understand these games.” As Judge Judy says, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.” These games stink! Anand and Carlsen are playing like they’re just trying to get it over with so they can enter a Monopoly tournament.

I hope nobody’s thinking, “Gee, even if I lose, I still walk off with over a million dollars–just for showing up! Why give myself grey hairs, trying to win?”

I wonder what would happen if they knocked $50,000 or $100,000 off the purse, every time there’s a draw.

If big-time chess isn’t dead already, events like this will kill it.