ARE YOU READY FOR...?

So much going on these days. The political campaigns have begun their final lap to November, gasoline prices are lower but not low, unemployment is up, the economy is shaky, Afghanistan has moved to the front burner, the Russians look like the bad guys again, and the housing crisis continues. However, none of that is terribly important in the grand scheme of things. Yes, we should all be concerned. Yes, we should pay attention to these headache-inducing problems...But seriously, ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBAWL?!! (spelling correct in conjunction with pronunciation) -- I mean what else could possibly matter? It took a full week, however I finally stopped worrying about the aforementioned trivialities and realized what's actually important.

As the days shorten noticeably, as the morning temperatures take a slight dip, as the school year entrenches in routine, only one thing seems to matter: that pigskin spheroid (sans lipstick), symbolic of weekends (and some weeks) spent in an HD stupor glued to that electronic signal sender-- eye level -- mid-living room. It might be a jailable (new word?) offense not to possess an over-sized recliner complete with drink holders and remote pockets (a side tray for snacks would certainly enhance the furniture).

Physical fitness, healthy eating habits, daily exercise, and a versatile social schedule comprise a popular formula for human longevity. Yet I think weekend dispensations merit strong consideration given the importance attached to this sacred passion. Let's face it, short of a 12.0 (on a big Richter Scale) trembler that takes out half the western hemisphere (particularly football stadiums), not much can dissuade or disturb the true fan from late August until late January. Whether the venue is high school, junior college, college Division I, II, III or 10, the NFL, and even Pee Wee,no outdoor activity approaches football for dedicated observers.


This past weekend qualifies as a perfect exemplar for my personal football fanaticism. On Friday night I arrived home just in time for the Navy-Ball State game on ESPN's Friday Night College tilt. I also changed channels to watch a live high school game (high school?). On Saturday morning I woke up just in time for ESPN's acclaimed College Gameday show where host Chris Fowler tries not to laugh at the silliness known as former coach, turned analyst, Lee Corso. At 9:00 it was time for Ohio State-Ohio and Michigan-Miami(the Ohio version). I wish they would stagger the starts so they didn't reach halftime simultaneously. That forces me to wander aimlessly for 20 minutes until the action renews. I checked off my signal calling to Encore Westerns as a short buffer. After halftime I displayed my manual dexterity with quick, decisive forcefulness on the remote, a talent developed through years of practice. Dedication hardly ends on the playing field. At noon BYU and Washington kicked off, followed at 12:30 By Notre Dame-San Diego State, Oregon State-Penn State, and Mississippi-Wake Forest. Oh, the decisions one has to make! But I like pressure situations such as thumb pressing fast enough to avoid commercials, a true art form. On to more action. At 1:30 West Virginia and East Carolina began their battle, and at 2:00 it was the Texas A&M-New Mexico clash. I saved my timeouts for the late games and caught South Florida-Central Florida as well as Alcorn State and Grambling at 4:00. The 5:00 shift began with Rice-Memphis and Florida-Miami. I started to feel the effects of blurred vision and leg cramps just before the day's finale, a 7:15 barn burner matching Texas and Texas-El Paso. At 10:00 I called it a day because I had to rest up for the NFL pre-game shows and three more games on Sunday. Talk about exhaustion. I was absolutely spent.

When you consider the fantasy leagues, food consumption (why didn't I open a sports bar?), clothing sales (I need my JaMarcus Russell jersey), and ticket revenues, the pig lobby probably wishes it had negotiated a better contract (call Babe that cute, smug British porker). How can one work during the season; it's such an annoying distraction.

Well, time to check the TV schedule; the weekend will be here before I realize it.

To quote the legendary Fats Domino: "Blue Monday, how I hate Blue Monday."

MM