I've been skeptical ever since February. With owners having TV money going into their pockets whether games were played this fall or not, and then a lawsuit pitting players against the owners, and the deluge of issues that were on the table, I truly thought there may not be any football this season. The first draft of my suicide note, which I happily trashed yesterday, had the word "lockout" in it 17 times. (Kidding, by the way. It was only 15.)
The approach of football season is always thrilling. Sixteen beautiful Bears games, a full slate of fantasy football matchups, the Monday night games--I'm always ready for some football come early September. But in years like these, when the Cubs are out of the race by Memorial Day and the team is virtually unwatchable, the return of NFL football is especially welcome.
Yesterday, the Cubs notched their first sweep since a two-gamer in Florida way back in May. That makes me happy, sort of like the way you feel when you're nervous about what to order at a restaurant but your selected entree turns out to be delicious. But waking up yesterday to the Internets announcing that we will indeed have football this September made me happy as a lark on ecstasy at the moment he learns that he has been offered his dream lark job and his lark girlfriend agrees to enter into lark matrimony with him.
Like this, but with less lipstick.
Filed under: NFL