I think the last time I sat down and watched a full sports match was ... maybe never?
No, wait; that's not true: I do love British soccer--mainly because the players, from all over the world, are sexier than those in any other sport and because the commentators, with their accents, are the most hilarious on TV. But for the most part, I could give a free throw about sports.
Except, of course, when there's a jock-y hottie in the headlines--like there was this week when Swiss tennis star Roger Federer won the French Open. Who knows what it is about him--maybe that strange, mesmerizing smile? Those smoldering eyes? The fact that he's got one hell of an enormous ... trophy? (As pictured to our left.) I dunno--but I DO know that he is one champion heart-throb.
Down below, we have the Fed with his rival (in hotness), the Spaniard Rafael Nadal. Who is, undeniably, quite foxy. Still, I think the Fed wins in the International Hottie Open Championships. Don't you?
I'm also in love with the Thai baseball player Johnny Damon. Ask my friend Tim about this guy and he can immediately rattle off all sorts of relative statistics: The dude's a Yankee outfielder from Thailand who's third in runs in the Major Leagues ... blah, blah, blah. All I know is the important stuff: He's FIRST in Major League faces--and looks best with long hair and no beard.
Next ranked in the Hottie seed (am I even using that word right?), we have Ma---
Oh. Wait a second.
Wait a SECOND!!!
Who is that bimbo with mah boy-fren?
Okay. Sorry. Actually, Mark Sanchez, he of the washboard stomach fame, cannot technically be my boyfriend, since he doesn't know I exist. That does not stop be from being convinced that once we meet, he and I will spend the rest of our born days together. (If only because I will offer to be his personal assistant. For free. Life-time offer.) My boy Mark is the new quarterback for some dumb football team*. And after seeing him for the first time recently in a GQ magazine photo spread, I went to the hopsital seeking treatment for my first-degree eyeball burns--that's how hot he is.
Now we come to the really hard part: picking a soccer player. Basically, I want to pick them all. (To give you a sense of why the decision is so difficult, check out this woman's blog post about her 10 favorite Italian players: http://www.italylogue.com/about-italy/10-hottest-italian-footballers-according-to-jessica.html . But be fore-warned: The page is full of pictures of hot Italianos in their UNDERWEAR, posing for Dolce & Gabana. Although there's no full-on penile nudity, there are plenty of banana hammocks, so you may not feel comfy viewing these boys at work.)
My favorite soccer player used to be Thierry Henry, when he played for the English team Arsenal. But now he plays for Barcelona, and the commentators over there speak in Espanol, so the games aren't terribly interesting for me; as such, I've cooled on him a bit. (Check out Thierry's reaction, pictured, when I told him I didn't love him any more because he betrayed me by going off to Spain. ... Sorry, babe, but that's what you get for leaving!)
My father--whom I watch soccer with, mainly because it's the only activity, besides eating and talking, we both like to do--always pooh-poohed my crush on Thierry. "He looks like a frog!" my dad would say, whenever Thierry would show up on screen. Meanwhile, I'd run to get as close to the TV as possible, plopping down in front of it so that my eyeballs were about an inch away from Thierry's face. (Or sometimes his butt.) And I'd be thinking: Look at those gorgeous big lips! All the better to kiss me with!
Hmm ... I think I'm going to have to do a separate post, after very careful consideration, about my favorite soccer players. In the meantime, I think I've objectified men enough for one day, don't you?
Now, you know what I want to hear: Which other jock hotties are out there that I should know about? (And have any of them donated their DNA to sperm banks?) Who are your favorites?
*I honestly have no idea which team.