Two of my neighbors have just upgraded their TV service to
HD, high definition. A third is on the verge. Big-screens are reasonably cheap,
but that 55-incher you got ain’t no good if you can’t read the numbers on the
shirts or see the ball in the air.
Welcome to football season.
If you’re on Facebook, your feed is likely filled with posts
of mascots, flags, jerseys, and all manner of animals and emblems. Sports-talk
shows have been giddy with their picks and prognostications for what’s going to
happen over the next few months.
And as usual, I’m sitting here in my underwear, trying to
figure out what it all means. And it does mean something. For one, it’s fall,
by golly.
We could probably toss a coin over whether we love fall for
the football or football because it happens in the fall. Glance around and see
that the sumacs, dogwoods, and sourwoods – maybe even your maples – are
signaling a change of seasons. Especially in the South, by the time kick-off
comes around, we’ve had an evening or two where a cool breeze has dropped hints
that this year’s hell-hot days are almost behind us.
Football season also makes us more social. If you go to the
games, you may have met up with friends prior to the game for some food,
toddies, and maybe a silly lawn game. Some of these friends are not friends any
other time of year except at tailgate time. You likely sit with friends at the
game. Even for those of us that simply watch the games on TV, it’s almost
always with a gathering of friends.
Our usual bunch is mostly a Southeastern Conference crowd: Georgia , Tennessee
and Auburn are
represented. We try not to gloat when someone’s team loses, especially when
they lose to our team. We all feel especially blessed that we have no one in
our crowd rooting for Alabama or Florida , because then
things might get really ugly.
And with the social aspect of pigskin season, there is food.
Special food. Garbage food. Stuff you don’t normally eat because, really, isn’t
your butt already large enough? But it’s football food! Gotta have it.
Finally, this time of year is about hope. World peace,
financial market meltdowns, even your day-to-day struggles to pay the bills be
damned! This is the year my team is going to win the national championship!
Not. Probably not. But maybe?
Blow that whistle, ref! ‘Tis the season.