the cheese stands alone

And Little Less Than A Month Left

I woke up this morning, looked at the clock, and quite literally said out loud, "Only three more hours to football."

When I was a wee sprout, I wasn't a football person. I was a baseball person, in the sense that it was all I wanted to play. Nowadays, you couldn't pay me to watch televised baseball. Basketball has always slightly disgusted me... I think it was all the naked, sweaty armpits. Hockey's only interesting when they fight.

But football has me locked up tight and has thrown away the key. I once quit a part time job because they insisted I work every single Sunday, instead of Saturday, which is just college ball.
The GM1 does not understand why I don't follow college ball. I tell him college football is the audition. Professional football is the end result.

I have players I hate (Kurt Warner), players I adore (Chad Pennington), players who amuse me (Eddie George's perfectly round head), and players who scare me (Orlando Smith, the homicide waiting to happen). I support a team based on uniform colors and whether or not I like the city. Some coaches are the key to my loyalty.... I used to worship Bobby Ross. On the other hand, I despise Pittsburg because the coach looks like he kicks puppies for fun in his off time.
I will like any team that Vinnie Testaverde is on, because his name is the best name to sing-song. "Vinnie Test-a-ver-DEE!"

Football relaxes me. Sometimes I fall asleep watching it, a little boneless catnap of televised massaging, to spring awake when I hear the commentator exclaim about something.
Howie Long is one hot guy. Howie Long could commentate a tractor pull and make it look good.

And the commercials? The best commercials always show up during football, not counting the Superbowl which is like the senior prom of ad time. The catfight over Tastes Great or Less Filling, the Real Men of Genius, the True Budwiser Tales... beer companies should have their own Academy Award category.

There's a lot about football that irritates me, too. More and more sissy rules.... taunting? How the hell can "taunting" be a foul? Increasingly complex regulations, which I try not to let make me crazy but it's sometimes like taking calculus when all I wanted was a nice, easy shop class. And some vastly ugly uniform choices that are just wrong.

But I do love football. It's been about 10 years since we first met, and with luck we'll outlast that whole "freshman relationship" phase and become that old couple sitting on the porch in rocking chairs, every weekend of the fall and winter.
I only hope the old geezer can keep it up.

Posted by LeeAnn at January 4, 2004 07:44 AM