Friday, August 14, 2009

Hooray Football!

Don't get me wrong, the Rockies have given me a little something to hold onto through the long, dark days of summer and I'm grateful.

Golf has been pretty good, though Tom Watson missed it by * * that much and my boy Phil was out for a chunk of the season.

[SUMMARY: Sports summary. ESPN needs me.]

But it's time.

I fancy I can feel a nip in the air and see that particular slant of the light that means the season is changing. Maybe not quite from summer to autumn, but from baseball to football.

Did I mention I'm a Denver Broncos season ticket holder now?

[SUMMARY: *wham!* Bad horse! Get up! *wham!* *wham!*]

Because of the, y'know, mail thing, I set up my tickets to be picked up at will call.

Last week I called, if you will.§

I took the Mile High Walk through Broncos Country...

...past horses of sky and water... the gates of Valhalla, that sacred space I've longed to tread.#

And my dorky little heart almost burst with all the extras.

I would have been content to just get my season tickets in a plain brown wrapper, but, like a good independent sock yarn dyer,†† the Broncos know those little extra touches will keep me coming back for more.‡‡

Here it is, my peeps.% My own personal, long sought, symbolic and literal, plegmatic and devine... my holy grail:

And get this: I had them print my name on them.

For those of you who care nothing and know nothing of football, we will return to our regularly-scheduled programming@ next time.

Meanwhile, sit back, relax and enjoy the fact that we didn't talk about chickens for the fourth day running, despite the fact Marybeth§§ got them in the mail yesterday and posted a couple of wee, fuzzy chickie photos¶¶ on Facebook.##

[SUMMARY: Oops.†††]

My grail runneth over.

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Despite the fact that the Weather Channel app is telling me it's going to be nearly 90 today. Did I mention I got a phone that has apps?

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Y'know... the seasons that *matter*.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): There is a chance I don't just think I'm funny, I may also think I'm clever.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): The photo doesn't quite show it, but the bronze Italian horses are running up a river.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Like sainthood with shoulder pads and cheerleaders. Ooooh... when I get all my saint points do you think I can get my own cheering section?

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): You may be witnessing the first time the Broncos organisation has been compared to sock yarn dyers.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Because you know if it wasn't for the stickers and the sweepstakes, football would just be unwatchable.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Not to be confused with Marybeth's wee fuzzy chickie peeps.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I can hear you laughing.

§§FOOTNOTE (I get mixed up sometimes): Who is, indeed, Marybeth, and not Mary Beth as I've been so callously calling her.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (peep peep): And they would look SO fetching in tiny little sweater vests. Oh, and that's pictures of wee fuzzy chickies... not photos of chickies that are the size of a postage stamp and kinda blurry.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding the point home): If you are my Facebook friend, you've probably seen the tiny, fuzzy chickies. If you aren't my Facebook friend, what's keeping you? Tiny, fuzzy chickie pictures, people!

†††FOOTNOTE (it's your cross to bear): Chickengate: Day 4.

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