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  1. I remember the days when sportsing involved gladiators maiming, dismembering, beheading, disembowling, the screams of the dying, free bread, the smell of death. Real risks, real outcomes, real sports.

    We could have that again you know. Just grab scooploads of ghetto animals, some chainlink fencing the pitch in a stadium, add swords, chains and clubs, vials of crack and wetblunts, hoes, Old English 40 ozzes, instead of gatoraid, blasting the call-to-violence (rap music) and free buckets of yard bird.

    This? Meh.

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