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“What is the ideal geek sport?”

Sadly, unless you’re planning on becoming a “Mathlete”, you’re pretty much boned.

Not that even as Official Geek Royalty, I admit to understanding the term. Sure, there were math teams when I was a kid, and schools were always having competitions that involved them – but they were seldom *WILLING* participants at these events.

The Math Team Vs. The Football Team.

The Math Team Vs. The Wrestling Team.

The Math Team Vs. Girls Varsity Lacrosse…

You get the picture.

In fact, the only real exercise a “Mathlete” tends to get is the cardiovascular workout achieved by running for his or her life. Unless you count fighting off sexually repressed girls with work boots and buzz cuts who hate men but because of society’s closed mindedness haven’t found a non-destructive outlet for their aggression beyond beating the object of their loathing with a huge stick-and-net combo.

That, and you know…whatever caloric burn off that can be achieved through repeated wedgies and swirlies.

But it’s early and we’re already digressing.

Other than the few exceptions to the rule that will now take this time to loudly and boldly list their athletic accomplishments as not to end up a human Oreo cookie being dunked lovingly into the milky depths of a toilet bowl, geeks just aren’t that interested in sports.

Sports tend to require things like “muscles” or “coordination” or “participation outdoors during daylight hours where things like pollen, spores and the dreaded Day Star stalk in waiting of foolish pasty flesh and unprotected lungs”, which cuts about 98% of us off of that list faster than you can say “…gasp…wh…eeeze…INHALER…n..now”. But rather than admit this, as for some reason we still cling to the notion that our species opposite sex is secretly looking for these athletic qualities in their mate, we tend to MAKE UP sports as not to seem so vulnerable and easily beat to death by lacrosse sticks.

And then we heavily stack these competitions in our favor so that if your body is a temple designed around the worship of Cheez-Doodles and bacon, you’re actually at an advantage.

Take competitive eating for example:

Originating at county fairs and $3.99 breakfast buffets all over the middle American states, what was once known as “being an incredible fatass” is now an actual SPORT, complete with sponsors, figureheads, and no-f***ing-lie…

A planned VIDEO GAME.

But the real athletes among the masses are even dicking THIS one up for us…

For a brief period of time competitive eating was a sport in which things like “abs” or “muscles” or “any frigging kind of physical fitness what-so-frigging-ever” weren’t even on the table. (unless you actually count the parts of the Jellopeople that actually and physically rested on the table)

No one expected a dude who could eat 53 hotdogs in two minutes to be in shape, athletic, or sexy unless you had some sort of fetish that involved mustard crammed up your nose at high velocities from diving face first into a plate full of wieners. If you had a gut, or resembled Grimace from the old McDonald’s commercials due to years of video game play or rotting in front of the television, you were pretty much in your prime for the sport.

But then this little Asian dude named Kobayashi shows up and starts f***ing it up for EVERYONE.

He comes in with his good looks, and muscular body, and weird stomach patterns that make it look like a chestburster is using his bellybutton for a peephole – and huge fatasses all over the globe started laughing so hard that their neckrolls are STILL shaking.

And it was the one time that they COULD.

This was our moment. OUR sport. And like Mouth from the Goonies finding his unfulfilled wishing penny in the old Moss Garden well, we were taking it back. We were taking it ALL back, and some skinny guy who looks like he should be getting his ass kicked by Jackie Chan wasn’t going to wreck that for us…

…and then he did.

That little basterd* is not only in shape and a crowd favorite – but he’s a f***ing eating MACHINE, and he puts just about every pasty, doughy geek up there to shame.

So to answer the original question…

Video games.

Video games are our perfect sport.

We’re good at them, they don’t require any muscles past a meaty set of thumbs, and even if you do look all handsome and exotic with your weird stomach parts – no one cares because they can’t SEE you from your web setup in your mother’s basement.

Video games.

But don’t tell anyone, or else some douchebag with biceps and a well defined chest is going to show up and wreck it for everyone again, forcing us to do whatever the hell a “squat thrust” is, just to attempt to get into shape.

And that my friends, you don’t want to see.

Trust me.

-Coyote

(*Yes. Spelled like this on purpose.)