A world without commentary.

Two weeks ago, the San Diego Super Chargers' game was broadcast for the first several minutes with no accompanying commentary. The crowd noise was there, the crack of shoulder pads and the wheezing of Philip Rivers as he ran a bootleg into the end zone was loud and clear. The national television audience was treated to pure football without pretense.

It was like being at the game, but close enough to the field to hear what the players were saying. No forced witticisms, not over analyzing the plight of Norv Turner, just the sound of football. Of course, nothing perfect stays perfect that way, and the technical "error" was "corrected," and on came the blathering idiots.

I was watching the series, and Joe Buck pissed me off so much I muted him. I would normally turn on the radio, but our little bedside radio doesn't get any Sox stations, so I watched in silence.

First, I have to admit the game was far more compelling. Joe Buck makes me irrationally irritated and I'm okay with admitting that. He knows he's paid by the word to fill in the back stories and try to explain why things are interesting and he makes a huge amount of money for it. I don't begrudge Joe Buck for irritating me, and I respect his success, but I would rather not hear the crowd reaction than listen to Joe Buck and hear everything. Does that make me a bad fan?

Here was my plan, hit the mute button every time the pitcher went into his wind-up. Hit it again after the ball is declared dead. For instance, ball hits catchers mitt, mute Joe Buck. Pitcher goes into wind-up unmute game because Joe isn't allowed to tell lame stories when the ball is live.

Outside of missing the Manny chant, the plan was working great. I was doing the Manny chant anyway, and I just tried to synch up with the crowd's lips.

Suddenly, the camera switched away from the field to a guy wearing a suit and being interviewed. I watched the first twenty seconds of the interview with the sound muted. Then I got curious. How important must this guy be for the focus to be taken from the field and put on him. I assumed he was a foreign dignitary who had some great story. It was...

a taco salesman. I hit the mute button and went back to pretending it was a foreign dignitary.

I have this crazy desire to see the transformers movie. I didn't want to see it in the theater, but after watching a few baseball games, this incontrollable urge has almost broken me... must see Transformers. Maybe I'll buy the movie when I get my free taco.