15 Signs You're a Sports Hater

You realize that LeBron James is 275 pounds and one of the most athletic people on the planet, right? In sum, he'd knock you unconscious with one post move. The hate for LeBron is strong, and hypothetical scenarios about his being unable to compete against Michael Jordan have played out insufferably in sports bars across the country. He's the best player in basketball. By a lot. It's OK to just enjoy the show.

Pops, we get that in your day guys wore leather helmets and played through brain hemorrhages, but offensive lineman topped out at 180 pounds and smoked Chesterfield cigarettes during play. Instead of watching eight hours worth of Fox News on the daily, maybe check out a Jabari Parker high school highlight tape on YouTube. Today's youth isn't all about "the texting" and "purple dranks." Stop being such a hater, it's bad for your quadruple bypass.

It's hard to overcome the browbeaten realities of living life inside of a cubicle. The American sports empire was built on the idea of escapism, a place of refuge from your overbearing boss, and mouthy teenage kids. So it's especially painful to have to sit behind Khloe Kardashian's enormous melon while she sits courtside for free. If you avoid the common folk and only go to games to promote some lame sitcom or rub elbows with Justin Bieber, then you shouldn't show up to the stadium.

While the rest of us funnel domestic beer and freebase bean dip on Sundays in the fall, you go to Yoga Sculpt because "it's less crowded when the Jets are playing." You hate football and carbs, we get it.

What are unorganized sports? Is that, like, a basketball game with four teams, nine balls, and no rules? Not sure what "organized sports" means exactly, but anyone who uses those two words together is about to rail against Little League for being "oppressive means of conformity."

Bars with less than 40 TVs should have their liquor licenses revoked. If, during the game, you find yourself in front of a "mixologist" who "muddles mint" to "release natural oils and aroma," then we hope you choke on your lemon peel garnish. Sports fans drink domestic beer from buckets because they're hardcore. Also, because they're on special. Waitress!? Another Bronco Bucket, please.

Dogging LeBron James, slurping Tim Tebow, and saying that golfers or racecar drivers are the world's best athletes are just passive aggressive ways of saying that you hate sports. Just admit it to yourself. You're angry and miserable so you want to make everyone around you angry and miserable by proclaiming Isiah Thomas the greatest basketball player of all time. If you find that you're the only person who agrees with you, chances are you're on the losing end of an argument.

In the thick of the NCAA Tournament work's abuzz with bracket talk. If you hate college basketball, don't fret. April 9 will come soon enough. Until then, keep your mouth shut about folk rock bands, HBO's Girls, and grumpy cat memes.

While Yale, Princeton, and the University of Chicago boast a vaunted list of Nobel Prize winners, none of them pull down a paycheck like Albert Pujols. Northwestern might hold itself in high regard for maintaining academic standards in their athletic programs, but there's nothing admirable about getting outclassed by mouth breathers from the University of Iowa on the basketball court.

When #BlakeGriffinDunk is trending, the worst thing you can do is comment on the season finale of Game of Thrones, post an Instagram-ed picture of your dinner, or opine on who you think The Donald is going to fire. Don't interrupt a trite back and forth amongst sports fans, it's like getting between a hungry dog and a can of Alpo.

We realize it's not cool to show any love for dodgeball when you're 16 years old. But you don't have sit on the sidelines scoffing at the rest of the world. Lace up and fire a ball at some kid's face. You never know, you could make a friend or two.

You're one of those people who claims to watch the Super Bowl exclusively for the commercials and halftime entertainment. The commercials sucked because they always suck and Beyonce spazzed out in an ostentatious leotard. What a shocker. Congratulations on wasting a Sunday.

Gamers really just trade one pathetic hobby for another. Instead of screaming at the television over a false start penalty, they yell at a 14-year-old kid through a headset during a spirited, seven-hour-long Call of Duty session. Same thing, really. Sports fans eat wings and drink beer. Gamers IV Red Bull and scarf pizza. Sports fans are no more athletes than gamers are soldiers, spies, or suspender-adorned plumbers. We fight a lot because there's only one TV and you want to play Bioshock while we want to watch the Laker game. But when you get down to it, we're brothers in arms. Stop the hate.

When you hear "Everybody clap your hands!" *clap* *clap* *clap*" from the stadium PA system, you best get to clapping. When "YMCA" comes on, we want to see you dance as though you're dressed like a stereotypical American Indian. And when the wave comes your way, keep that thing moving. If you're just sitting on your hands when the water rushes over you, you'll look like a certified hater.

Bruh, how come you're not following ESPN's Matthew Berry on Twitter? We have RotoWorld Player News turned up to 11, year-round. If you're not 100 percent committed to having the best phony team out of all of your dateless friends, then you're not living.