67. Athletic

The Almighty looked uncomfortable. “Let’s just change the subject, shall we? Have you been watching the Olympics?”

It was destiny for me to disappoint my Lord today. “Christ! I get so fucking tired of hearing about the Olympics. That’s all people are talking about. You can’t avoid it.”

“Dude! I thought that was a safe subject. Country against country. Gladiators sparring like in the old days – but without all those messy deaths. It’s all just good fun!”

Where to start? “Okay, first of all, these countries are spending shitloads of cash on this frigging GAME. Think of what they could do for raising the minimum income of their population if they didn’t participate! You’re a socialist: The idea of a minimum income should totally appeal. Why are our governments willing to spend so much on something that improves nobody’s life?”

God stammered. “But at least it improves the athlete’s life, doesn’t it?”

I leaned in closer. “Horseshit! It’s no coincidence that Canada’s spokesperson for Mental Health Awareness is an Olympic athlete. Do you know the rate of mental health issues in Olympic Athletes? It’s higher than rock stars, authors, movie stars. They start conditioning as children to become the best in the world, and then it all pays off – or comes crashing down – in a few minutes every four years. They’re fucking wrecks! The highs and lows just tear them apart. These are your gladiators.”

“Dude, I had no idea. Why do we let this happen?”

“I can’t even imagine.”

Jehovah still wanted to find a bright side. “But despite all of that, it’s kind of fun to watch the competition, wouldn’t you say?”

I decided it was time to get off my soapbox. The Creator obviously didn’t know the minute details of what was going on, so I should cut him some slack. “Gotta admit, dude, I’ve never enjoyed watching sports. Maybe it has to do with being a big clutz. My wife used to always say one of the things she liked most about me was that I don’t watch sports.”

He raised one finger and looked about to say something. I interrupted. “I know. It wasn’t enough. Apparently it takes more than that to keep her interested.”

The finger went down. The Lord of Light seemed to decide that small talk just wasn’t going to work today. I felt badly for shooting him down – but, really, this deity needed a dose of reality once in a while. The Prophet thing should be able to work both ways, right?