Season's Turn

Thursday, Sept. 5, 2002 -
Ap�sl�min ida corbalanyrtne 'ls�o rohl'daathi�m v� nen�a iroyss�rd.

Whose big fat brilliant idea was it to open football season on a Thursday?

The Fiend and I had gone to the hardware store. In Culver City. Which is a rather long drive, even for us Californians, who must drive to live. (This particular hardware store is well worth the pilgrimage. B & B Hardware. Thick, characterful ambience and canny, old-fashioned service, combined with a huge inventory. Home Depot can only stand shamed in its shadow.) We got home just after dark, and as we walked into the house, Jer yelled out, "Hey, you're missing the game!"

"I thought they played on Sundays," spake my beloved, who is a tender naif in the world of the NFL. I had forgotten that the season, for the first time ever, was being launched on a Thursday.

We came in just after the Giants tied the score, with 1:55 to play. I watched the Forty-Niners stroll down the field and kick a field-goal for the win. A walk in the park. Quick and painless. I didn't even have time to crack a beer-nut or shuck a pistachio. (Football season is the only time I eat beer-nuts or pistachios. Like ball-slicing, this is another one of my forebears' manly traditions.) Afterwards, the commentary was all about the Forty-Niners sub par performance, and how well the Giants played. I had to double-check the score to make sure I understood who won. Obviously I'd missed something.

~

Does anyone outside of the U. S. understand the grandeur of American football?

<~>
Ap�sl�min ida corbalan� 'lse nesgla ugar�-cham sa cru ogrulho bat�oltha al�mv�sde.

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