X Games

Thank God for the X Games.

Summer TV is terrible. Most summer shows are like the awful deleted scenes from a movie that were rightfully deleted. If it can't make the fall or spring network lineup, throw it in the summer's. Someone on his summer break is bound to faithfully tune in to the sub-par sitcom or the reality show reject.

For the rest of us, there's baseball -- which, don't get me wrong, I could undyingly watch every day, regardless of teams playing -- or the Discovery Channel. In my mind, neither is ever a bad choice.

But sometimes you just need something extreme (sorry, Discovery Channel, logging is never extreme, no matter how many degrees below zero the temperature). No, make that X-treme, with a capital 'X' and no 'e.' Like jumping ramps, unleashing flips and twirls, and hitting high speeds, all against God's plan of limitations for humans, via miniature modes of transportation intended for children ages 10 and under. (How much longer must we wait for events involving Power Wheels?) Small skateboards and bicycles, big air and risks of lifelong injury. The X Games comprise the best television entertainment you're probably not watching.

I find myself enthralled with what's either a heaping dose of audacity or unequivocal idiocy. Perhaps a blend of both. Whatever the building block for performing these lunatic feats, it's rather easy to withhold ill feeling for any of the contestants who shatters his skeletal structure on a stunt gone awry. After the knee-jerk grimacing "Oooh," I can't help but shrug my shoulders and immediately lose all empathy. I mean, you're sailing 30 feet in the air with a metal bar for your manliest organs to rest upon, for crying out loud. Or descending a ramp at 50+ mph while standing on a fraternity paddle atop golf ball-sized wheels. It says a lot about you when your profession solely revolves around doing activities that other people only do while drunk in order to go viral on YouTube.

But it's that lack of respect for their own bodies that I respect with everything inside of mine.

How long, though, is that cool? As my girlfriend accurately pointed out, as likable and indeed unbelievable as Tony Hawk is, it's kind of difficult to take a man who is over 40 years old and still skateboards for a living seriously. What will this man's walker at 80 look like? A skateboard with protective bars? Dude, hang the skateboard up. In your parents' garage. And put the yo-yo away and quit sticking your gum underneath tables if those, too, are issues that you're still struggling with surrendering from your middle school days.

Maybe he's holding out for the Senior X Games. I can't wait to see what can be pulled off in a Rascal. Now that's good summer TV.

Of course, there's always the WNBA.