On Monday, Patrick Swayze passed away. He'd been fighting pancreatic cancer since early in 2008. Some movie stars die, and you think, "I guess it was their time," and go on with your life. Some stars die, and you think what a waste. And then there's Patrick Swayze. I mean, after 20 months of fighting cancer, it wasn't unexpected. Still, it doesn't feel right. It's not as shocking a tragedy as Heath Ledger's death, but it's different. It shakes the the firmament just a bit. Patrick Swayze's not supposed to die. He's supposed to be immortal, always there, in the back of a guy's mind as evinced in this Rik Turner show.
Obviously, "Sports Guys Who Love Patrick Swayze" isn't a glittering endearment to the deceased. But, underneath the light lampooning, I think there's a general adulation too. This sketch wouldn't be funny if guys who love sports didn't also get something almost unspeakable out of Patrick Swayze movies. You wouldn't go out in good macho-sports-lovin-guy conscience rent a Swayze flick, but if your girlfriend wanted to watch it on the tube, you wouldn't exactly turn her down. It's not only that Swayze had the raw magnetism and charisma you'd never have, and it wasn't just that said game pulled the kind of women louts like us could only dream about having wet, clay fantasies with. No, there was something ineffable about Patrick Swayze. He's the guy who takes all your machismo, makes it look like ballet, and then makes "balletic athleticism" a desirable thing. He's the guy who, dammit, makes it okay to pull baby out of that corner and sniffle just a little bit at a terse good-bye. He's the guy who made Point Blank watchable (well, kind of) and gave us this bit of comic genius:
Sports Guys Who Remember Patrick Swayze
