I don’t watch a whole lot of ESPN, despite the fact that I fancy myself someone interested in sports, because I think ESPN is basically for the most part utter garbage. But when I’m at the gym, and I’m running on the treadmill, I like to have distractions; I have music playing through my iPhone, but occasionally it helps to have some visual distraction as well. And since all the treadmills come equipped with personal televisions, it’s fairly convenient to seek something to watch to help pass the minutes.

Unfortunately, the gym’s television programming is limited to like nine channels, and at any given time, four of them are Wendy Williams, two are the Kardashian show, the others are chintzy intolerable mid-morning talk programming, and then there’s ESPN. If I’m really lucky, it’ll be a day in which the E! network decides to air old episodes of Saved by the Bell, but for the most part, I end up having ESPN on, because Hannah Storm or Jade McCarthy are easy on the eyes, but then I turn the television off when Stephen A. Smith shows up.

Long story short, I admit that I watch a little bit of ESPN. And in that little bit of ESPN, I’ve noticed something that a lot of other people have probably already noticed long before I did, but whatever, I’m writing about it now.

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