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Commentary. I just want to watch the game but still get all the normal sounds of the game. The crowd roar. The stadium music.
I could care less about the color guy and the play by play guy. Just let me enjoy the game instead of making me listen to you drone on and on about the player of the moment.
Oh, I felt this way before Joe Buck. He just solidified it.
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My dear girl, there are some things that just aren’t done. Such as, drinking Dom Perignon ’53 above the temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s just as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs.
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