Nolan Dalla

When Masterbation Becomes an Olympic Sport



Passing through a crowded casino this weekend, I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of people – primarily men – crowded around several television screens at one of the bars.  You saw the photo, you read the headline — so you can easily see where this is headed.


So, what were they watching?  It’s not football season yet, and no one gives a shit about baseball, at least until the playoffs begin.

Answer — the 2012 Olympic Games.

More specifically, the men were watching women’s beach volleyball.

Right.  You’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking.  I’m sure most of those guys with their eyeballs glued to the television screens really gave a flying rat’s ass that the United States was playing Australia in a preliminary medal round.  Hell, it wasn’t even the finals.  But for many of those men, no doubt, the match concluded with one hell of a climax.

Beach volleyball?  Don’t call this charade a sport.  It’s the world’s largest masturbation festival — plain and simple.  It’s a cum-dumpster parade.  Women in panties prancing around in the sand.  They might as well be having a pillow fight or wrestling in jello.

Confirming my suspicion that most of the viewers had no real rooting interest in the Olympic match other than the tits and ass tally, sometime later when I passed through the same area after dinner and this time men’s volleyball was being shown, virtually no one was watching.  MEN’S VOLLEYBALL.  Poof!  Everyone was gone!  I don’t know — perhaps someone yelled “fire” inside the casino and I missed it.

The bottom line is, most of these gold medal events aren’t really “sports” at all.  They are excuses for getting as many athletes from as many nations as possible into a televised viewing frame so that as many products as possible can be plunged down our throats in the form of a non-stop parade of commercials.  That’s it basically.  The Olympics are nothing more than a delivery device for rampant consumerism — be it cell phones, sports cars, or soft drinks.  It’s the globe’s biggest assembly line for product placement — on every wall, on every uniform, on every sign, on every conceivable frame of real estate that might possibly be viewed by someone, somewhere.

This brings me to what should be the Olympic Games’ most expensive product platform — the ASSES of the volleyball girls.  Hell, that real estate is more prime than a penthouse on Central Park West.

Let’s talk more about these so-called “sports.”

Rule #1:  Any “sport” that has judges and a scoring system is NOT a sport.  Got it?

Think of it this way.  Any competition that requires one human being to sit in judgment of another is a beauty contest, and nothing else.  Either that or a murder trial.  If the Olympic Games wanted to ensure some actual integrity, then judge the athletes and their performances in a manner that removes any potential for favoritism.  For instance, gymnastics and diving — two sports that use scoring systems to determine the winners — require judges to view all performances in silhouette.  That’s easy to do with modern technology.  Moreover, have the judges sequestered in sound-proof rooms where they won’t be swayed by the crowd cheering, nor should they know the identities or nations of the athletes they are judging.  At least that would be somewhat more objective rather than the current method which is rife with corruption (Google the notorious ice skating judges scandal, for instance).  As things stand now, these “sports” that use judges are one Howard Stern appearance from becoming The Gong Show.

Synchronized swimming?  Don’t even get me started.  I think for something to qualify as a sport — more than a few dozen people in the world have to actually, you know, play the sport.  Has anyone ever met a synchronized swimmer?  Hell, there are more Jackson brothers.  Alive!  Now, if you REALLY want to make this “sport” interesting, then dump a fucking alligator in the pool.  That might create something worth watching.


Badminton?  What the fuck?  Now, things are getting really getting out of hand.  Sorry, but I’m not impressed when some 5-foot tall Chinese waif weighing 90 pounds wins a gold medal battling it out in the grueling sport of badminton.  This is a picnic game for children, not a sport.  What next, a competition for Silly Putty?

Then, there are the equestrian events, which means the competition involves horses.  Let me get this straight — the horses do all the work and the riders get all the glory.  The human gets a gold medal and the horse gets another bale of hay.  Sounds like a pretty shitty deal to me.  Sorry, unless the ceremony includes placing medals around the necks of the horses, this is NOT a sport.  It’s nothing more than a channel for uber-rich people to say they made the Olympic team.  After all, 99.9 percent of the population can’t afford to do this activity.

Want proof?  In what has to be considered the Olympic Game’s most pathetic moment, one of Great Britain’s “athletes” was interviewed recently.  Apparently, she’s a relative of Queen Liz and rides on the national equestrian team.  The “athlete” talked about how hard she trained to be a part of the Olympic squad.  Please.  Spare me.  She lives a life of luxury, has no job, and pretty much spends every day during the past six months on a royal estate riding horses.  Working hard?  Try pulling a double shift at Red Lobster and then get back to me, sister.


Then, there’s archery.  This might actually qualify as a “sport” if the year was let’s say — 1642.  Yeah, that’s about the last time this joke of competition meant anything.  Archery?  Seriously?  I hear the 1642 English athletes were the first real Dream Team.

Water polo?  You’ve got to be kidding.

Rowing?  Please.  Stop.

Canoeing?  The shark has been jumped.



WHO WOULD BUY A TICKET TO WATCH THE TRAMPOLINE COMPETITION?  Please, people — I beg of you.  If someone can post some comments in the section below and explain who in the fuck would spend 200 euros to watch someone bouncing up and down on a trampoline, I would love to be educated.

And we haven’t even touched on the Winter Olympics where they actually have a sport where the “athletes” do nothing more than push brooms across the ice.  This is NOT a sport, folks.  It’s a fucking janitor training program.

So, what competitions would I substitute in place of these charades that masquerade as “sports?”  Easy.  Games that people actually play.  Things that hundreds of millions of people around the world actually do and enjoy.







That’s right.  Sex!  What we should have — is a vast array of sexual competitions.  Use your imagination.  I’m sure something will come to you.

And if that somehow happens and we get a sex Olympics, please sign me up to be one of the judges.  Only, don’t put me in a sound-proof room and make me judge females in silhouette.  Fuck that.  Put me on the front row.  I want to get a close-up view so I can fill out my scorecard properly.  You can even have them jump on trampolines.

Then — at least we’d be cutting through the bullshit and hypocrisy of events that now masquerade as Olympic gold medal events, like women’s beach volleyball.

TAG: Nolan Dalla writings
Exit mobile version