Quick question – what is your favorite time of the week? Friday at 5pm? Saturday night?
Mine is right now.
What is right now? 10:30am Sunday morning in the Fall. Got Sunday NFL Countdown on TV, a cup of coffee in front of me and a wad of nicotine gum in my mouth. I am going through websites trying to fine-tune the starting lineups of my four fantasy football teams, and am concerned about Beanie Wells’ ankle and Mario Manningham’s concussion. Will Mike Vick be productive with a bone bruise on his non-throwing hand at home against San Fran or should I take a flyer on Flacco Sunday night against the Jets?
And that’s just one of my fantasy teams. Got three more to cogitate over, and two hours in which to do it.
I will then don my autographed Bernie Kosar jersey and head over to Post Time Lounge in Longwood to join my fellow Orlando Browns Backers for this afternoon’s game against Tennessee. The TWO-AND-ONE Cleveland Browns. Tied for first place in the AFC North Cleveland Browns.
Life is good.
Now, by 4:00pm all this hopefulness may evaporate. The Browns may lose. Vick may be on the bench with a broken ankle, having amassed me three fantasy points as I face the prospect of heartbreaking losses.
But right now, it is sunny and hopeful.
For others, Sunday morning is shhh be quiet time due to over-imbibing on Saturday night. That’s fine; I am not about to pass judgment on other people’s favorite time of the week. I am just thankful that I woke up clear-headed and sober.
Hey, when you have to decide between Felix Jones’ dislocated shoulder and Jermichael Finley’s ankle, you better be lucid.
1 comment:
Just FYI, the "word verification" letters I have to type in to make this post are "twayvul," as in, "I'm a woild twayvuler." So there's that.
I'm just not feeling football this year, Jer. Last year I would have said Saturday morning, watching College Gameday with the tasty Kirk Herbstriet was my best time of the week. Now? My best time varies week to week, but essentially it is whatever day begins my husband's four work days in a row and he's gone, or mostly gone, for four glorious days. I look forward to every day being a best day very soon. Fucker. Maybe then I'll even get back into football. And twayvuling.
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