Not Recommended Dept.:

THE X-GAMES

Pushing it to the limit in a big, poorly-run
interactive advertisement.

 

 

 

 

We approached the line to get into the X-Games, a line of which we could not see the end, it doubling back beside itself for the length of a very long block so that as you walked in the one direction, the others flowed in the opposite direction right beside you underscoring the seeming futility in having to walk so far in the opposite direction before getting the honor of moving in the direction of the actual entrance. The line looked to be moving somewhat reasonably however, and well, we were "here," so, what the heck?

We followed in line to the end of the block, turned, came back the full block to the corner to what had looked like the entrance but was only the entrance to another crowd- containing device -- a line of barriers like those found in an amusement park. We followed along the barrier, about another block, turned, came back the same way as we had on the previous block, toward the "entrance," turned again to walk about another half block toward another area that looked like an entrance, where the line slowed considerably. We turned the corner, passing through gates which could have been taken for an entrance but were not, and continued, slowly, down a slight grade in the line, the end of which we thought we could see. At this point the line moved slower and slower and we seemed trapped in that riddle of the moving object only being able to ever approach its destination by increments of half the existing distance -- approaching slower and slower, never getting there.

We approached the entrance, or what looked like the entrance...it was the entrance, wasn't it?...we hoped. Though hope is foolish in these situations.

What was taking so long? This was a free event; why couldn't people flow through to the inside? I had been to concerts with much larger attendance than this and the wait was nothing, sometimes ten minutes.

We came upon the entrance, people bunched now in front of it in more of a solid mass, inching forward. It was hot as Hell. One boy was having trouble standing up, probably on the verge of heat stroke. His parents didn't request help or pull him out of line though; no, not this close to the goal, not with the turnstile only twenty feet away...

There were tables to walk past where several workers inspected backpacks; o.k., that is understandable, but not everyone here is carrying something...let's get on with it dammit. Past that I saw several--maybe eight--turnstiles, only all rotated to a position so they could not be passed through, forming a barrier. On the end was one turnstile through which everyone entering the event walked.

One fucking turnstile.

Elves danced around in my mind, singing and screaming beating each other with leather belts, occasionally one would take a buckle in the face and the blood would pour out his little nose on to his green suit.

This was my first problem with the X-games, and maybe I would have been easier on the whole event had the senseless, sadistic death march not taken place. But then, even once inside the gate, the existence of yet another line to get into the First Union Center ensured my bad attitude toward this whole entity that seemed bent on making people stand and wait in the heat, for no reason other than simply to make them wait, to make them think they were getting into something really special.

Once through the gate you were confronted with a huge parking lot full of various tents and kiosks, each holding special attractions presented on behalf of different companies. A Motorola booth had a DJ, and was filled with cell phones, walkie talkies, two-way radios and other electronic garbage. Carrot Top entertained from an AT&T booth. Skateboards were raffled. A van had its side doors open to reveal a cash machine inside. It was no secret what all involved in putting on this show knew as their target -- the vulnerable young [or rather any vulnerable young who did not meet their demise in the heat on the way in]. There was the Right Guard booth where you could get a free sample of Right Guard Xtreme -- a deodorant designed apparently to deal with the special sweat of people involved in extreme sports.

The logo for the X-games, a disproproportionate "X" with a small globe placed atop to look like a head, had been fashioned into a stainless steel statue about twelve feet high. This looked to me a lot like the Burning man logo...it's hard to tell The Man from The Man from The Man anymore.

Both outside and inside the F.U. Center there was a constant blare of either music, advertisements, or other noise. Non-stop promos, televisions in every corner. Like the extreme sports needed an extreme soundtrack. It was extremely annoying.

It was no secret what all here knew as their target -- the vulnerable young. A van had its side doors open to reveal a cash machine inside. A Motorola booth had a DJ and was filled with phones, walkie talkies and other electronic garbage.

Inside the F.U. Center I wandered around. From the second floor windows on one side you see out across an industrial landscape, to the Walt Whitman bridge, to New Jersey. From the building's other side, two nondescript traffic bridges, trees and a partial view of the Philadelphia skyline. I walked inside, onto the second level and into the bar area which had few people inside. We were reminded constantly by the loud PA system that AT&T was sponsoring the show. At a table by the railing facing inside a father was involved an an argument with his eleven (?) year old daughter.

"Settle yourself before I smack you in the mouth," he said.

She was restless and unhappy for some reason. Kids just don't have the stamina to stand in lines for hours and hours and then quietly watch hours of a sporting event while their parents drink beer the way they used to.

He faced out toward the action holding his beer. She stood behind him fussing.

"Whenever you do this it ruins the whole outing," he said turning around to her.

"I can't see," she said.

"That's your problem," he said, turning back to the railing.

I had seen enough of the X-Games. I emerged from the F.U. Center into a rain shower. A misting tent that was running earlier, now a place to duck out of the rain. The games had been free, but I didn't know how anyone could leave not feeling ripped off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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