Saturday, February 6, 2010

Hitting Metal Toughness For Six

Tonight, despite my various misgivings, i went to watch the Australia, Pakistan Twenty 20 match at the MCG.

For the one (or possibly two) readers that don't live in the glorious British Commomwealth, Twenty 20 is a feeble attempt to make the sport of cricket both interesting and TV friendly. A sport that needs to be shortened from five days, to four hours, that still retains boring parts, is truely in need of help. Yet so it is.

What i was interested by was the large police presence. I personally saw several fights, and a few people dragged away by the police. This is in a sport that prides itself on being family friendly entertainment. What it contrasted with, quite amusingly, is the way metal fans talk up the brutality of concerts, when in reality, it probably didn't even compare with this cricket match.

Metal fans that talk in hushed tones about the "brutal suffocation gig" where they "totally broke a rib" and "broke the nose of three posers" probably, in reality, just stubbed their toe.

Who are you more scared of?

Or him?

I will admit that neither strike fear into the heart of man as this person does:

How could you not be scared as this man, sweet Mayhem tee billowing in the wind, shitty dual suspension bike creaking, bore down on you with all the stench and elitism of the average black metal fan. Also sweet rap rounds.

However, the spider guy is clearly more scary than the dog collar Maiden fan, and i suspect both are typical of the kind of people that attend cricket and metla gigs respectively. Clearly actual viloence is a far more real proposition at the sporting event, and sitting in front of me was a seven year old child. During the fight he stood up and was calling for blood. During a fight at a metal gig, everyone shys away from the violence, muttering about how they totally could have taken the seven footer with spikes coming out of his eyes, if it weren't for their sore neck from "sweet wind milling".

In conclusion, metal gigs, even self conciously violent ones like Slayer, Morbid Angel, and Styper, are nothing to the bare toothed brutality of family oriented sport.

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