Monday, February 3, 2014

Football Season Is Over

On Sunday, February 20, 2005, Hunter S. Thompson killed himself, leaving behind a suicide note.

He titled it: "Football Season Is Over".

I can identify with the sentiment.

I love football even more than dark chocolate. It is the one sport that consumes me.

It makes hideous New England winters easier to bear, it excites me and makes me feel alive, come alive; it gives me something to focus on and thrill to, it awakens passion in me that is otherwise dead, killed by jobs that pour acid on my soul.

This football season was torture. I missed 85% of it because of my servitude to The Asylum.

This is unprecedented. I never let anything get in the way of Sacred Sundays.

To short circuit the vipers who are ready to attack me and call me a sniveling, whining maggot..........yup it was entirely my fault that I missed the season. I have held the goddamn job since 2/22/13 and I knew two days in that it was a colossal mistake. Plenty of time to engineer a "Great Escape-like" escape.

Yet I dug no tunnels.

That being said, the frustration was enormous.

A lesson has been learned. A steely resolve to never put myself in this position again.

Football season is over now and I have nothing to look back on. No vibes in the tank I can draw on as we wait for slow moving baseball to  saunter back into the spotlight. As I wait for racing to crank itself back up, another sport I enjoy and missed out on entirely.

There is an emptiness that stretches back over four months, a void that has never been there before.

I am feeling uncomfortable in myriad ways lately. The discomfort, rather than feeding into depression, is serving as a wake up call on many fronts.

As far as football is concerned, I will make it my lover come this September. I will be attentive to its every desire, I will wallow in the most minute of details, I will reacquaint myself with the fragile balancing act between violence and grace.

I will do this faithfully and with devotion.

I am not in a rush. Football season is over and spring is promised as a result, groundhog be damned.

I am looking for nothing less than catharsis this spring. I expect my health to return to robustness as gentler weather awakens my soul to its potential.

When that happens I will dance like a madman and sing like a bird.

I will mine that beauty for all it is worth, and when September, unfortunately/fortunately, does roll around in 2014, I will possess a strength of mind, body and character that will allow me to experience football better than I ever have before.

I mourn the 2013 NFL season.

I celebrate the coming of the 2014 NFL season with purified anticipation.

No comments:

Post a Comment