Yeah, So, My Favorite Athlete Is That Guy from That Team, You Know, the One Who's Really Fast

On Saturday morning, the phone rang. I answered it and found myself caught up in a market research survey. I said yes, thinking it would just be a few questions. It wasn’t. It went on for about 40 minutes, and about every two minutes, I just wanted to say to hell with it and hang up, but I felt really sorry for the woman doing the survey, because, well, she didn’t seem very bright, and I didn’t want her to lose credit for doing the survey if I hung up, so I kept going. They were surveying women about sports, and did ever they call the wrong person. I have little or no interest in most sports. The only team sport I’m at all interested in is hockey. I also enjoy the Winter Olympics (featuring such popular events as curling and two-man luge) and figure skating, which most people don’t even classify as a sport.

The survey consisted of a lot of questions about sports I know nothing about. They asked if I watch a bunch of different sports on TV, including things like NASCAR (ha!), stock car racing (I asked Lord Kissington about that, and he suggested that they were more likely to have said “short car racing.” Whatever.), and golf.

Here is a sample question:

Telemarketer: Do you know what the AFL stands for?
Me: (thinking to myself: Hmmh, I bet they don’t mean the AFL-CIO.) Ummh, American Football League? (Lord Kissington later assured me that this answer was actually correct, as until the 1960s, there was an American Football League. So take that, survey people.)
Telemarketer: Ummh, no. It’s the Arena Football League.
Me: Oh.
Telemarketer: That’s ok.

She then followed up with a lot of questions about arena football. This wasn’t a well-designed survey. If I don’t even know what the AFL is, am I likely to have a lot of opinions about it? She read a list of statements and asked me if I agreed, disagreed, or didn’t know. For example:

Telemarketer: Arena football is a fine substitute for the NFL.
Me: Don’t know. (Although I would suspect the answer is a resounding “no” for any real football fans.)
Telemarketer: Arena football is a minor-league sport.
Me: Don’t know
Telemarketer: Arena football is a dazzling display of athleticism.
Me: (trying not to laugh) Don’t know

She then asked me to identify the main sponsor of lots of sports. I did not know the main sponsors of the NFL, the NBA, the NHL, NASCAR, MLB, the PGA tour, old man golfing, the LPGA, men’s tennis, woman’s tennis, arena football, or stock car racing (again, whatever). Every time I said I didn’t know, she said, “that’s ok” in a sympathetic voice. I wanted to ask her if she could name the last five Booker Prize winners. I almost never watch sports on TV and when I do, I tend to spend the commercial breaks doing other things, like peeing, replenishing beverages, or pondering the state of the world. I’m the worst consumer ever apparently.

Then there was a section of questions about pizza. First, she asked about Papa John’s. She gave me a list of qualities and I had to agree totally, agree somewhat, disagree somewhat, disagree totally, or don’t know.

Telemarketer: Papa John's is contemporary and up to date.
Me: (thinking, ummh, it’s pizza) Agree somewhat.
Telemarketer: Papa John's is fun and exciting.
Me: (Again, it’s pizza.) Agree somewhat.
Telemarketer: Papa John's are delivery experts.
Me: Given what happened the last time I ordered from Papa Johns*, I can resoundingly disagree totally.
Telemarketer: Papa John's is hip.
Me: Huh?

Then we went through the whole list again with Dominos. Shockingly, my answers were pretty much the same.

Then she asked if I drank beer. The only answers she was equipped to take were “yes” or “no.” Apparently, there was no room for “yeah, I like it, but sometimes I can’t drink it if my stomach is bothering me, because it makes me, you know, a little gassy.”

We discussed whether Sprint/Nextel’s sponsorship of the NFL (apparently, they’re the main sponsor of the NFL. Who knew?) would make me more or less likely to use their service. I was able to very honestly tell her that it would make absolutely no difference whatsoever to me.

She asked my favorite team in several different sports. Thanks to baseball actually coming to DC, I was able to actually name a favorite baseball team (that would be the Nats). I also named my favorite football and hockey teams (Redskins and Caps, of course). Sadly, I was unable to give her a favorite basketball or arena football team. When it came to my favorite professional athlete, I said I didn’t have one. She didn’t seem to believe me, so I searched my brain. I finally came up with Richard Zednik (used to play for the Caps, was traded a few seasons back, and they just reacquired him, which I’m mildly stoked about, as much as I ever get stoked about sports, which, as you’ve probably guessed at this point, is not so much). She had no idea who Richard Zednik was, but I patiently spelled his name. Seriously, when you’ve got athletes with names like D’Brickashaw Ferguson*, is Richard Zednik really that exotic?

Finally, she asked what magazines I subscribe to.
Me: Vogue.
Telemarketer: (in a doubtful voice, as if I had just said that I subscribe to Kazahkstani Sheepherders Weekly) Vogue?
Me: Yes, Vogue. You know, V-O-G-U-E.
Telemarketer: (still sounding doubtful) Vogue. Ok. Anything else?
Me: No.

In the background, Lord Kissington starts laughing. After I get off the phone, he says, “I notice you didn’t tell them you subscribe to US Weekly.”
Me: I don’t want them to know that!

*Three and a half hours for a pizza to be delivered. And the Papa John's is approximately 4 blocks away. Delivery experts, my ass.
**I am certainly not casting any aspersions on the name D’Brickashaw, which is a truly awesome name.