Whoa, man. If there is one guy I would not like to be right now, it is Tim Bradley. He’s the American boxer slated to fight Manny Pacquaio for the world title in June.
And that might be enough to make most of us quake in our sneakers.
But Bradley’s a professional fighter: he would have gone in knowing just how high the risk of having his nose punched into his brain was. No, what would really be terrifying Bradley would be the latest news: Pacquaio has God on his side.
I mean, he must be looking for ways to back out. What chance does he have? Once God’s on your side, game over, man. How do you fight a guy with the big G in his corner? Throw a punch, and angels hoist him out of the way, leaving you punching thin air. Leave your chin open, and Pacquaio will slam a left hook with all the power of Heaven behind it.
If ever a man has been in a no-win situation, it’s Tim Bradley. Now that Pacquaio has jumped on the Jesus train, he’ll be unstoppable. Manny and God are going to pound Bradley into a fine paste.
And it makes me wonder, is it really fair that some sportspeople are allowed to carry the enormous advantage that comes with holy sponsorship? We know how effective it is for a player to have God on his side: look at Shaun Hart, who won the Norm Smith Medal in 2001 with God’s help, even though up to two hours before the match, he was technically a wind-up toy.
If we consult our Bibles, we find that God is actually capable of doing anything, in a very literal sense, up to and including creating the entire universe and making zombies. Can we really dedicate ourselves to any sporting competition in which some competitors start with that kind of advantage? I mean, steroids are bad enough, but at least they don’t grant omnipotence.
Imagine if Ben Johnson had had God in Seoul 1988: he could have arrived at the finish line before he actually left the start. And he could then have made the stewards’ heads explode if they questioned him.
Imagine if Don Bradman had had God: he probably would have scored those four runs in his last innings. Imagine if Lleyton Hewitt had him: he’d run down every single ball. And then make the referee’s head explode. It’d be a bleak landscape indeed.
But look, God’s pretty much in control, and we can’t do much about it. If he wants to favour some people, then so be it. We can’t stop him fiddling the eligbility rules of State of Origin, or causing severe knee injuries to people who take his name in vain (maybe time to watch your mouth, Terry Campese, huh?).
But surely, it’s not too much to ask to at least be informed about who has God on the support staff and who doesn’t, if only for the integrity of the betting markets which as we all know are the only reason sport exists.
I mean, it’d be good to know.
If Essendon is going up against Fremantle, but we know before the game that David Hille has had his prayers answered and can now jump on top of Aaron Sandilands’s head, that’s important information.
If we know that Richmond will be handicapped in its next game against the Bulldogs, because God disapproves of Bachar Houli’s false religion, we can enter our tips in an informed manner.
And it’s important to know that it’s the real God too, not a fake one. For so many years, Aaron Baddeley’s been going around thinking he’s got God behind him, when actually it’s a particularly mischievous demon who is amused by causing people to lose golf games.
And Matthew Hayden often believed God to be assisting him when in fact it was the ghost of Genghis Khan.
There’s nothing worse than getting on the God bandwagon only to discover that you’ve actually been riding Satan’s fire engine all along. Than thinking it was God giving strength to your cover drives or torpedoes, when actually you’ve signed a deal with the devil and will burn in hell for all eternity.
So this is my plea to God: just give us a heads-up, OK guy? I’m totally on-board with the favouring of sportspeople thing, it’s only natural that as ‘Creator of Us All’, you should take an interest in our athletic endeavours. Shows you’ve got your priorities straight.
But give us a fighting chance at navigating the dizzying seas of sport. Just put out a list every week of who’s been naughty and who’s been nice, so we can stay in the loop.
We know you’re all-powerful, we know you’re all-knowing, and we know you’re all-loving. Just a little bit of transparency, yeah?
Your children have Supercoach teams to finalise, you know.
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