Football’s Here Again! Oh Wow! Can’t Hardly Wait! Whoop-de-doo!

The Lion noticed in the Globe today that the New England Patriots will host the Baltimore Ravens (boo!) tonight in the first exhibition game of the new season.

For a moment The Lion actually felt … excitement … or something akin to excitement.

After all, The Lion once played football. Admittedly it was just high school varsity ball, but it was fun, and traumatic physically and emotionally more than once. Even now, when The Lion is no longer as young and pretty as he was (see pic on banner above), he still feels a bit of thrill every Fall. The crisp autumn air (well, it was crisp and cool before global warming), the sense of something new aborning from old traditions, some camaraderie with old teammates and some small sense of superiority over the new guys, and then that first hit in scrimmage. All in all, that was good.

And tonight at 7:30 The Lion will most likely turn on the television and watch the opening moments of a meaningless exhibition game.

And within a moment or two he will remember why he no longer watches American professional football and he will turn off the TV, or maybe tune over to the movie channels or even the Fox Soccer Channel to watch a 2003 match from the English Premier League.

The Lion knows that within the first couple of minutes of tonight’s game the NFL will assault him with commercials and promos and other assorted nonsense, and will continue doing so for the next three hours, while providing about fifteen minutes of actual football play.

Overhyped, over-commercialized, and underperforming, the NFL insults the game, insults the fan, and insults the intelligence of any viewer who can remain conscious through one of these borefests.

But The Lion takes comfort in knowing that even though he can’t help himself, even though he can’t not watch those first couple of minutes, five minutes after he turns the television on to watch tonight’s game, the season will be over and he can change the channel and forget about the NFL for the next six months.

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13 Responses

  1. And even better news: you get to watch the Patsies play the New York Favres twice.

    My parents actually went to the very first Patriots game back in the sixties. Pats lost.

    I cheer for the Redskins (Dad grew up in the DC area) and the Patriots (Mom grew up north of Boston).

    Go Pats. Go Skins.

    Bocce!!!!!!

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  2. Did little Bret go to the Jets?

    Petanque Forever!

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  3. Yep. Of course he’s too out of shape to make much of a difference, but the NY press is making it out as the second coming of Joe Namath (not that I’m old enough to remember).

    Bocce, Bocce, Bocce. With a Parodi cigar.

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  4. How long before he’s dubbed Bret the Jet?

    I parody your Parodi and raise you a Petanque.

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  5. Bret the Jet, playing for the New York Favres. Love it.

    re: petanque and bocce: haven’t we been here before? As I remember, last time you surrendered and decided that bocce really was the best way to play with one’s balls and you converted to bocceism. That’s the way I remember it, anyway, and I have faith that I am right.

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  6. There you go, tripping over Faith again. I should think she’d be tired of it by now.

    Since I never surrender, I could not have decided that bocce amounted to good balling. But in the spirit of compromise I suggested a new game, called boccetanque. However I suspect that you may have been in the scotch tanque at the time and thus do not remember my eminently reasonable offer. Perhaps (((Wife))) could refresh your scotch… er, your memory.

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  7. I read it on the internet so it must be true. See? Look two comments back and you’ll see it. It says you surrendered and became a bocceist. Honest. Would the internet lie?

    I remember boccetanque. I read that on the internet, too. Just have faith (small ‘F’) and it will all make sense. Or drink lots, that helps, too.

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  8. I have no idea where the winky smiley facey thingy came from.

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  9. I want to have Faith, but she wants dinner and dancing first and I’m broke.

    And congratulations on the demonstration of coordination by coordinating an apostrophe and a parentheses and thus parenthesizing a winky thingy. It takes a brave man to do that.

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  10. Are you denying that it says, on your blog, that you surrendered and became a bocceist?

    ‘) I did it again! Wooo!

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  11. I’m denying that you exist, because it says, right here on my blog, that you do not exist, that you are a figment of my fevered imagination dreamed up when I was hit in the head by a crazed bocceist for uttering the word ‘petanque’ on a bocce court.

    My blog also says that you tried petanque and were so enamored of it that you sold your balls and gave up bocce. But since you don’t exist that story is likely apocryphal.

    (((Is there any scotch left in the bottle?)))

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  12. It is tough trying to use theist debating tactics. My mind doesn’t work that way. Yes, there is scotch in the bottle. After honing my theistic debating skills, I need some.

    Like

  13. Brain hurt. More scotch.

    Like

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