Once upon a time there was a planet called Sport, where everyone lived on a diet of emotions. They produced them through compelling contests and arch-rivalries and tribal behaviour. Of all the feelings available, they especially loved the richly layered flavour of triumph-over-adversity. Piquant failure was another favourite, as was bitter disgust, but they weren’t too fussy.
In the short periods when there weren’t any contests taking place, the planet’s inhabitants spent their time talking about them, or about the people who took part in them. If any of the contestants began to complain that all this emotion-generating was giving them a headache, and that they needed a break, the citizens would grumble about how much they were paying for the contests. Their anger towards the players was delicious and sustaining.
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