I watched Trump’s coronavirus press conference the other day. Well, watched in the sense that it was on in the background while I tweeted about being a slut for mozzarella sticks.
Anyway, as one would suspect, social media was filled with the usual ham-handed keyboard pounders giving their unsolicited hot takes afterwards. And, as I normally do when an important national conversation invites the opinions of ALL citizens, I opened my laptop, fired it up, cracked my knuckles… and watched Friends.
On DVD.
Like a Neanderthal.
Screw you, Netflix.
Be that as it may, given all the tension in the air, I thought it might be a fun idea to take a break from shitting our opinions across the internet to instead breakdown an episode from one of the okayest TV shows ever made. Specifically, an episode where absolutely no parallels can be drawn between it and the current state of America’s butt-stanky political atmosphere.
You know… for funsies.
The episode I want to break down is “The One With the Football” which aired on November 21, 1996. It opens with the gang preparing Thanksgiving dinner, and Joey suggesting they all play a friendly game of football. Phoebe, Rachel and Chandler are all game, but Monica and Ross say they’re not allowed to play.
They explain that their father banned them from the sport following Geller Bowl VI, wherein Monica broke Ross’s nose. Monica says she won the game, but Ross, being the overly sensitive academic type that he is, points out a technicality. He claims Monica lost that game because of the illegal tackle that shattered his face. He further states that since he had to be taken to the ER, her victory didn’t count since the results were more or less “rigged” in her favor.
Monica, who is kind of a bully and condescending douche, taunts Ross until he feels as though he’s left with no choice but to take her on and, perhaps, re-claim the victory he feels was stolen from him.
Monica picks Joey and Phoebe for her team, while Ross picks Chandler and Rachel. Now, since they didn’t come up with team names in the episode, we’ll just go ahead and call Ross’s team, Team D, for Dr. Geller. And Monica’s team… oh, I don’t know, Team R, for Ross’s sister.
You know, just so things are a little easier to understand.
Shockingly, it’s only a matter of minutes until Team R and Team D begin hurling insults at each other like the two drunkest uncles at Thanksgiving. It becomes immediately clear that Ross and Monica’s plan is to energize their teams by demonizing their opponents, a method of leadership that is objectively fucking disgraceful.
However, adopting the leadership style of literally every single bully in an ’80s movie eventually proves effective.
In the next scene, Joey and Chandler meet a random Dutch girl who is innocently loitering near a poorly lit vacant lot like most women who were very obviously not prostitutes did in New York City in the mid ’90s, and they both begin to vie for her affections.
After a brief squabble, Joey tells Chandler that he’ll let him have her. But Chandler, whose overly sensitive personality makes him a perfect fit for Team D, gets super butt-hurt at the notion that he can’t get her number on his own and rips Joey’s favorite jersey.
Although the tension between Chandler and Joey began over the Dutch hooker’s phone number, they make the argument about the football game for no apparent reason at all. This is evident on the very next play where Team D argues that Phoebe’s touchdown doesn’t count, Team R argues that it does, and the sad reality that they are grown-ass adults bitching over things that have no real impact on any of their lives eludes them all.
The hostility only grows when Team D accuses Team R of cheating yet again. Fed up with Team D’s bitching about details they are technically correct about, but which most regular people wouldn’t think to scrutinize, Team R shields itself behind its secret weapon.
And of course by secret weapon, I mean a piece of garbage nailed to a 2×4.
For visually obvious reasons, Ross and Monica’s dad yeeted this nightmare fuel into a lake years before. The Geller Cup is more or less just a Troll doll, but this particular Troll seems to defy the laws of nature by somehow looking like it died from drowning and heat stroke at the same time. It has frizzy orange hair that looks like it was haphazardly glued to its shapeless, orange body, and an origin story that I’m sure must involve some sort of curse by a witch.
It’s also obvious from initial reactions that everyone, irrespective of team, sees it as an abomination even if they don’t publicly admit it, or even go as far as to defend it later.
Ross gingerly cradles the Geller Cup later in the scene, but by this point in the episode, it’s obvious that it’s not Trap House Barbie that Ross is so enamored by… he’s enamored by what it represents.
His hate for Monica.
You see, Monica and Ross may love each other the way siblings have to love each other, but as competitors, they hate each other, and they fucking love to hate each other.
They love to rub it in. They love to push each other down. They love feeling justified in being a snide, condescending bag of dicks any time they have even the slightest disagreement. Neither team gives two craps about the Troll; their competitiveness is fueled by the desire to see the other team lose. No more, no less. That’s what they’re playing for, and now with a tangible form of that hate (the trophy) thrown in the mix, they go back downstairs to finish the game. Only now, Ross knows how shamelessly devoted Monica and Team R is to the Troll.
So, unsurprisingly, Ross and Team D sink to their level, and the game devolves into an absolute shit-show complete with blatantly illegal tackles…
Flagrant holding…
And boobs.
And just like Team D and R’s bitter feud, the game also has no foreseeable end. After a Hail Mary pass to Rachel that turns out to be just short of the goal line, Ross and Monica both jump on the ball and refuse to let it go.
Sadly, the audience is left with the sense that even if one of them somehow managed to wrestle the football away, the game still wouldn’t have any winners. Only losers… sad, sad losers.
In conclusion, while this episode masks its overarching message with goofy antics and cheap jokes, the moral of the story is still pretty clear.
Being more motivated by the prospect of basking in your opponent’s misery following their loss than by the opportunity to lead with grace and dignity following your win, doesn’t make you a good person, sibling, or FRIEND…
It makes you a twat.