First of all, I promised myself that I’d only watch 20 minutes of the show to catch a glimpse of Jason Taylor dancing just so I can say that I watched him do this crap at least once. It would be my first and last time watching Jason Taylor frolic around in shiny pants.
If anyone asked me prior to last night’s Dancing With the Stars season premiere what I thought JT’s chances at winning this thing were, I would’ve told them that Jason Taylor is half-man, half cyborg-- programmed to seek and destroy his foes and adversaries and, therefore, not at all programmed to dance in a totally non-destructive manner for cash and prizes. I would have told them that he’s out of his element – as opposed to his regular job description: rip quarterback a new asshole, go home, have a straight grain whiskey on the rocks.
But after watching JT dance the foxtrot in front of millions of viewers, mostly whom have no earthly clue what he does for a living (He’s, like, a football player, right?), I was pleasantly surprised. I even found myself genuinely cheering for him like I do on Sundays. This was not what I expected of myself. First of all, because this show is ridiculous. And secondly, because I expected JT to come out all revved up like before a game and smash some shit up. But he didn’t. Because I’m so used to watching him bulldoze over 300 pound linemen, crack quarterbacks’ skulls in and punch the air with that “hit the target” celebration thingy that he does, I expected him to flop around the dance floor like a moose that had just been hit with a tranquilizer dart. Instead, JT was graceful, lithe, with a hint of charming sophistication. I was enchanted.
I was even hoping the judges would come out and agree with me that JT was all kinds of awesome and give him a perfect score, as I had already done in my heart. And while he did get favorable scores from the three judges (7-8-7), it wasn’t a perfect score. That shit annoyed me to no end. I don’t know if standards are usually high on the show. I don’t know if they’ve ever scored higher than a 9. But after they gave their respective scores, I found myself saying to the three judges -- out loud mind you, “Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you.” I was officially hooked in.
Fuck me.
After that, it became a matter of watching the other contestants and uttering to myself, “Yea, Jason can pretty much kick that guy’s ass.” Cristian de la Fuente? I have no idea who you are or what you do. But Jason Taylor can kick your Cristian de lass. Adam Carolla? Pfft. Please. Penn Jillette? Magic is stupid. Oh and Jason Taylor can kick your ass. Steve Guttenberg? Nice guy. Good guy. Jason Taylor can so kick your ass. Mario? Actually, Mario scares me a little. Kid can dance. But Jason Taylor can still kick his ass.
Anyway, it all continues next Tuesday. Anyone want to have a watch party? My house! Come on over!* We can order pizza and cheer on JT, text in our votes, and make fun of the fact that Priscilla Presley has that creepy smooth waxy face, yet flappy old lady arms and saggy body. It'll be sooo awesome!
-
*By “Come on over,” I mean, “What are you fucking high? It’s a joke!”
Not a joke: Jason Taylor’s dance moves. I’ll be so watching next week.
