Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Not A Minute Too Soon
Saints training camp starts tomorrow. I have been trying my best not to be an over the top fan. When I became a dad my dad told me that stuff like football games wouldn’t matter so much. He said life would be more in perspective and I would probably not get upset about sports like I used to. I am sure he was right but he said all this before Katrina. It is true that I gave up my season tickets after the last pre Katrina season. I had decided that I was taking the outcome of those games way too personal and it wasn’t worth making myself sick over.
After everything got turned upside down, I can’t wait for football season. I want to suspend reality for a few hours on the weekend and think about why we overpaid Charles Grant or why Sean Payton isn’t using Reggie Bush correctly. I welcome the chance to take my shirt off and throw it across the room when #42 (I refuse to say or type his name.) gives up another long touchdown. I can’t wait for the first time Jeremy Shockey is wide open but doesn’t get the ball and goes crazy on the sideline so I can call my cousin and tell him I knew that guy was going to snap. I might even drive to Jackson for some practices.
This may all seem petty to the 24/7 deep and serious thinkers. Most people who can think that deep and that serious all the time probably haven’t had to do anything that required the mental energy of dealing with some of the issues down here. After the daily attacks on my tolerance, patience and sanity I can’t wait to hate the Falcons for two weeks. I need football for awhile. The season is only 16 weeks; maybe 20 if you get to the Super Bowl. That leaves at least 32 weeks of the year for me to be angry, bitter, and aggravated.
The Saints are the NFL’s version of Barak Obama. They make their suffering fans unite together in misery and disgust between all social, racial and geographic lines. If they can just get to the Super Bowl one time, I might be so happy that I forget the fact we don’t have hospital open below Canal St. for an entire hour. I am craving that long mental bliss.