The end is nigh for professional football.
Week two is upon us. Let’s hope Jets-Patriots isn’t some kind of standard-bearer.
Some weekends are grander than others. At those times, one talking point just isn’t enough – not nearly enough. Chief among these most majestic of weekends is the one housing the first Sunday of NFL action, so how, for this Monday, could I focus on only one storyline? I couldn’t.
The first NFL Sunday is so close I can almost taste it. Never have I been more excited to spend 11 hours in a dark basement with only the glow of the television to keep me company. Red Zone channel. No commercials, no mistakes. Now let’s get ready:
The greatest American holidays involve free stuff, gluttony, and blowing shit up. It’s greatest, combines all three. Free football, a gluttonous amount of free football, and the Jets imploding like a stadium that its host city has finally deemed too structurally deficient to stay upright. Opening day for the NFL, America’s greatest holiday.
I’m old. The numbers don’t say that, those say I’m only 25. But I am. The signs are everywhere. Like in the sharp decline of nights spent bar hopping, but the dramatic rise in those spent napping and taking in an episode of Shark Tank. Or in my occasional viewing of House Hunters. Not because I’m
Before I begin, I would like to personally congratulate Michael Vick and Brandon Weeden for officially being named their team’s week one starters come early September. Both quarterbacks performed more than admirably in their exhibition games, showing a strong grasp of the newly installed offenses of Chip Kelly and Norv Turner respectively. Well done,
The middle of August has arrived. It’s the end of the dog days of summer; the time to prep youngsters for back to school, capitalize on bathing suit clearance sales and prepare your pallet for the most drastic seasonal beer transition of the year. It’s also time for fantasy football drafts. There is nothing
I woke up yesterday expecting a change in the world. I stepped out of my humble abode with the anticipation of breezier breezes, shinier sunlight and the sound of children’s laughter more prevalent than ever. It was to be the greatest day this young earth had ever hosted. The NSA could tap any phone
As was said in A Bronx Tale, the saddest thing in life is wasted talent.