On Sept. 4, the Lingerie Football League kicks off, and I’m sure I speak for all men (who have a blog and a 50-50 shot of their wife reading said blog) when I say I’m disgusted.
I’m also very curious.
Just how long will this Lingerie League linger?
We know the economy is taking a toll on sports. After a year of melted 401ks and pink slips growing on trees, the money that once flowed through parks and arenas freely has been relegated to a few well-directed streams. Just ask the Phoenix Coyotes, Cleveland Indians, Arena Football or Big Baby’s agent. And while some experts are starting to announce the recession is over, they are the same people who were blindsided by its arrival. So forgive me for being cautiously optimistic. At the very least, we are still a long way from digging out.
New leagues don’t last in booming times. It would take the most clever/drastic/lucky business plan of all to survive in this atmosphere.
Enter the League of Skin.
While men and women can agree this will not be our proudest moment when society looks back through the ages, the underwear endeavor has one thing going for it. So-called “Sin Industries” are often the most steady enterprises in lean times. We’re talking escapism here. Sex. Booze. Gambling. This curious little incarnation could be a melting pot of all three. The sex part speaks for itself. The beer will pour down the frat boys in the box seats. And Vegas will be all over the gaming aspect. There’s already lingerie fantasy football (I kid you not).
Would I bet on this thing lasting? No. Is it better for marriages everywhere if it doesn’t? I would say so. Will curious sports reporters/amateur sociologists keep an eye on it in the meantime? Yes, indeed.
On Sept. 4, beautiful women will strip down half-naked and tackle each other. Who needs that?
We’re going to find out.
