This Is Not a Sports Blog

This is, however, a sports related posting.  You lady folk can stop reading if you like.  I won't be offended.   There will be no discussion of feelings or knitting in this post.  Okay, suit yourself but don't say I didn't warn you. 

I'm a fan of all sports.  Not lame or sissy sports (i.e. Running, Swimming, Rhythmic Gymnastics - basically all Olympic sports with the exception of Wrestling and Hockey), real man sports.  Violent Sports.  Football would be at the top of this list.  For as long as I can remember I've been a Steelers fan and possibly more importantly a fan of defense. 

When I was old enough to play (about eight I think) I immediately knew that linebacker was the position I was born for.  To this day I still think of myself in many ways as a middle linebacker.  I know that doesn't make a lot of sense.  How on earth could someone think of themselves as a middle linebacker in everyday life and how could it help?  Head to the local market, tackle an unsuspecting shopper then come talk to me.  Go ahead and go now.  I'll wait.

Back already?  Amazing right!?  A total rush.  Did you tackle a Working Mom or a Senior Citizen?  Either way, I'm sure they will be okay.  Varsity plays hurt I like to say.  Imagine several hours a day of that rush, five or six days a week, over four months a year for a twelve year period of your life.  It's going to stay with you.  You're gonna dream about it.  You're going to want it to last forever.  Kind of like sex only without the annoying cuddling and having to care about your partners satisfaction.  So for me, just like sex.  You know what I'm talking about whichever loyal ladies are still reading.

I still dream about it.  The football that is.  The dreams usually start around July.  I start with dreams about double sessions.  As the summer progresses so do the dreams.  Scrimmages, weight training, new uni's, and so on leading up to the Big Game.  There's been a new wrinkle in the dream lately.  I'm having the same dreams that I've always had only now I'm in a hospital gown.  I'm spending too much time trying to make sure my ass isn't hanging out and not enough time covering the Running Back on a swing route out of the backfield.  I'm constantly worried about my Picc line hanging from my arm and it's keeping me from taking on the lead blocker.  My Glory Days dreams have turned into a sort of surreal medical stress dream.

Under the circumstances this should be the ideal football season for me as a spectator.  I have nothing but free time.  Time to line up my first few weeks of betting.  Time to bone up for a fantasy draft.  The recurring hospital/football dream has completely colored my anticipation of this years football season.  I say all this because tomorrow I will be unleashing my pre-season predictions and I want it known that I am not on my A-game.  I am hedging my bets.  I'm handicapping my new handicap.

I told you Gals, all sports and no feelings in this post.  I warned you.  Okay, just for hanging in there I'll give you this.

And this.

You're welcome.