Hush...

...if you close your eyes can you hear the pigskin singing on the wind?

Training Camp officially opened yesterday. The long, dark summer is almost over. Be still, my grass-stained heart.†

You may be familiar with the phrase, "It's preseason for the [fill in the blank] too," a sentence which will be spouted with increasing density from the Hall of Fame game on August 5th, right through the final preseason games on August 31. It will be used to excuse gaffes for everybody from the coaching staff to the sideline reporters.

Sometime around August 17, it will cease to be viable and start becoming a joke.

"Well, it's preseason for the hot dog vendors too, Marv," you'll hear me utter. "It's preseason for the guys who make Quizno's‡ commercials."

I'm going to preempt the joke phase and say, "It's preseason for knitblogs."

We haven't been through a football season together. I can't tell you what this will do to those who think of this as a knitblog.§

I can't tell you how much football I'll feel compelled to spread out here at the Rickety Blog.

I can't tell you I won't be spewing gleeful bile$ about the damnblasted Raiders every single week for the next seven months.

[SUMMARY: For someone who talks so much, I'm not telling you a lot.]

I can tell you I fly my mom's Bronco flag each and every game day.

I can tell you I play fantasy football. Oh, hell, let's not sugar-coat it: I have commissionered my fantasy football league for the past three or four years.¶

I can tell you I love college football as well, but I'm OK if I miss a college game. We don't know yet what happens if I miss a Bronco game, but defibrillators are standing by.

I can tell you my mom was a HUGE Bronco fan and football season might open up some space for more of that sentimental stuff that keeps anal beads from taking over the blogiverse.

I can tell you to go to NFL 101 in your local NFL city if you are a woman# who loves football or wants to learn about football.††

I can tell you I do get a LOT of knitting done during football season, so there'll still be plenty of knitting -- maybe even more FOs than you're used to from me.

[SUMMARY: Please disregard the last summary. I just talk a lot.]

We'll just have to see where the season‡‡ takes us.

Meanwhile, how 'bout them Broncos?


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): 'Cause, y'know, astroturf is for the birds. Like Falcons or Eagles maybe. Wow. That was lame even for me.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Y'all know this is a brand name, right? And it's all copyrighted and trademarked within an inch of its life? Hi lawyers! No infringing here!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Including your dear ol' AntiM.

$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Because they're going to suck hard this year. Much like last year. And the year before. And probably next year. Possibly until several years after Al Davis goes to that big black tracksuit in the centre of the earth.

Oh, look! It's started already!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And I don't want to brag, but I won the first fantasy super bowl (the Elk Bowl, in our parlance) and, by golly, I won the last. Hey, it's not bragging if you put it in the footnotes. Who reads footnotes anyway?

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Yep. Women only. Which is a pity. I've met some boys who could benefit.

I won't go into too much detail, but there's a goody bag and an equipment demonstration where they strip a fine young football specimen right down to his skivvies. And an open bar. At least in Denver.

Did I mention goody bag? And mostly naked man? And open bar? Always worth repeating...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Brother heartily endorses NFL 101, which turned Sis-in-Law into a football fan. And one who knows what she's talking about. So it has the approval of men AND women. So go. You may still not like football, but at least you'll know exactly what you don't like about it in greater detail and with penalties and everything... and you'll get a goody bag out of the deal.

Did I mention the goody bag?

Did I mention mostly-naked man?

And open bar?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm thinking I better not tell you 'bout hockey and basketball quite yet... and it's more than a year until the Olympics...



I know, I know... I implied there would be sex. I'm holding off until, say, Monday, as there may be actual sex this weekend, rather than just confusing and dangerous hypothetical sex.§§

Rhetorical sex is rarely as interesting all on its own as rhetorical sex backed up by a little rhythm and rhyme.

[SUMMARY: eca teases Marin. Marin teases the world. eca stops teasing. Marin still thinks it would be fun. Spending my Kharmic Green Stamps right and left.]


§§FOOTNOTE (double-curvy, sexy, swervy): Is it kind of wrong that hypothetical sex has become more dangerous than real sex in my world?