Sydney Sweeney Christy Rocky Boxing Movie Golf

Sydney Sweeney names Rocky as one of her favorite sports movies, says golf is the most boring sport to watch, and I’m dead inside

Like every red-blooded man in the United States of America, I absolutely love Sydney Sweeney. How could you not? She is quite literally The Daughter of the Revolution and that alone should be enough for anyone who’s been paying attention.

Now, do I actually believe she thinks Rocky is the greatest sports movie ever made? No. I don’t even believe she believes her own answer.

Sydney Sweeney also threw out Million Dollar Baby which, conveniently, is also about boxing. And gee, what a coincidence, Sweeney just so happens to be doing a PR tour promoting her new boxing film Christy, based on the true story of fighter Christy Martin.

Amazing how that works.

Whatever. I’ll allow it. It’s Sydney Sweeney.

What I will not allow is her answer for “least favorite sport to watch,” which she delivered with no hesitation. She chose golf. Golf. I won’t stand for that level of disrespect, but the PGA Tour jumped in with a perfect quote tweet, so I’ll let them handle the diplomacy.

As for Rocky, yes, the films are classics.

Yes, they’re iconic. And yes, I fully understand why people love them. What I don’t understand is how a fictional boxer has somehow become one of the most recognizable symbols of Philadelphia. You don’t need to worship Rocky to be “Philly.”

You don’t need to treat him like the second coming of Christ and yet here we are, decades later, still pretending this man was a real athlete who brought home real championships.

Then, of course, there’s the Rocky Statue. Easily the most unserious landmark in the entire city. A giant, tourist-baiting metal meme sitting in front of one of the greatest art museums in the world. People line up around the block to take pictures with a statue from a movie… but skip the actual museum behind it.

Philadelphia, ladies and gentlemen. We used to be a proper city.

The only redeeming quality of that statue is the Rocky Statue Curse.

That part rules. Opposing fanbases cannot resist dressing it up in their gear before a big game, and every time they do, their team gets absolutely smoked.

Here’s the most up-to-date list:

Before anyone gets carried away: None of this has anything to do with the statue.

No magical curse energy. No Philly sports gods. It’s just loser fanbases doing loser fanbase things. No one in Philadelphia actually cares what happens to that chunk of metal. It could be hauled into the Schuylkill tomorrow and I would hope the city would simply move on by lunch.

Which brings us back to Sydney Sweeney. The Rocky takes? Fine. The movie promo tie-in? Fine. I could literally listen to Sydney Sweeney talk about anything, for days and months, if not years at a time and never be happier.

Dismissing golf is rough. Sydney Sweeney, you’re killing me.

Clearly she’s never been outside on a perfect day with friends, music blasting, beers flowing, and chasing that one perfect shot that tricks you into believing, for four and a half hours, that you might actually be good at golf.

There hasn’t been a Sunday where Sydney was laying on her couch, falling asleep to the sweet sounds of a golf broadcast either.

It’s a shame, really. Sydney Sweeney needs to be better but not too much better. She’s still Sydney Sweeney after all.

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