The part of my brain that three and one half years ago watched football as a second favorite sport to pass the time during the baseball off-season chalks this last weekend up to a wash. Yes, the Patriots lost and no I don’t want to talk about it, but life resumes its normal course the next day and the rest of the weekend was pretty nice, you know!
However, there is a part of my brain that has transformed in the three and one half years I have known James and that part is miserable for reasons it almost doesn’t quite understand. Thus is the life of being a fan by proxy. On our chalkboard there is a countdown to the NFL draft and the weak hoorahs of ‘There’s always next year!’ that my two superfan roommates try and disguise their pain with. But I would like to announce proudly that my fandom has reached the truest, purest form. For I spent the better part of the day after the Super Bowl ridding my stomach (and soul!) of all the (gastointestinal) memories of the day before.
Or I got a stomach bug/food poisoning/lady timed thing that I’d been flirting with for what I have to think is about a week now.
Wash yo’ hands people. The vomit bug is going around.
So perhaps regularly scheduled programming will commence at a later date or perhaps earlier. We will have to play it by ear.
And let us remember that pitchers and catchers report in two weeks. I think if I’m going to be soul-crushingly disappointed, I want it to be by my Red Sox… as I am used to it from them.
And we shall say, Amen.