Flula Borg, a young, thin, white, German man, sits in front of his computer with a set of headphones askance on his head. He speaks directly into the camera.Oh god. He is sooooo funny. It's not easy to be funny in a language other than your primary one, no less to have great comic timing. I remember the first time I made a pun in German that made my German teacher laugh—that was a big deal. And I remember my friend Miller writing about the first time she made a group of people laugh telling a joke in Portuguese while living in Brazil. And Flula is just non-stop funny all the freaking time. That's an enviable talent.
I do not understand this football name in America. You know, in Germany, we have fußball—fußball is football, yeah?—but this is, for you, soccer. [confused face] I don't understand. Fußball— Football— What is you using for your sport, in "soccer"? It's feet! Okay, so we call it this; we're calling it this—feet-ball!—let us use the feet and kicking the ball!
But with you, football— [exasperated face] How—how many of kicks is there in the football game? Six kicks? We have six kicks in like eight seconds! [uses fingers to indicate kicks in quick succession] Bop bop bop bop bop tor!
You, it is like [looks exhausted] kick run run run hold. Throw. Time out. Everybody— Oh, referee! Problems! [mimes refs looking into a hooded reply monitor] Hood! We look in the hood! What is the problem? What's their thing? [mimes throwing] Throwing some flags. More looking in the hood, looking in the hood. Commercials! Ba-da-bop! Chevrolet! Beep-beep! [throws up his hands in resignation] Oh, and then, you know, twenty-nine minute later: Oh, a kick! Oh, one kick!
Where's the foot?! This is it. You have like nine kicks-off! Where's the foot? But you are calling it foot—football. [shrugs contemptuously] Why? Call it something else! Carryball. Or carry-throw-ball-and-sometimes-foot-kick-ball. I don't know. Just something. I say change it. Change it. CHANGE IT! To something that is more accurate—accurate—having some accurate things. [nods sagely; pause] Or: I Throw the Flag or What.
American Football, Your Name It Is Strange.
More Flula. Since I first showed this to Iain last week, he's watched it like five times, and we laugh and laugh every single time.
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