Ah, yes, the crack of shoulder pads and helmets colliding, the crisp air, the promise of morning frost and the merciful final inning of the worse-than-watching-paint-dry-and-then-having-to-eat-it MLB season.
Fall is upon us at last.
There’s no more magical time.
College football goes crazy every Saturday. The pros meet on Sunday and Monday. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are reserved for scrub FBS teams to underplay each other on channel 1,679. There’s evidently pro football on Thursdays shown only by a TV channel that’s just screaming for an antitrust inquiry. And then Friday’s got its nightlights to keep us occupied until Kirk Herbstreit and company kickoff the Saturday festivities once more.
It’s the circle of life. The wheel of fortune. The reincarnation nirvana of autumn. The neverending story of yards and tackles and pick-sixes and kick-sixes and petulant quarterbacks and red-faced-Lipitor-spokesmen-coaches and incomprehensible sideline reporting and a bizarre number of Viagra commercials and shiny uniforms and pretty colors and marching bands and probably other stuff that happens from September through the end of the year.
Which is to say, you are correct: I lumme suh fooball.
And which is to partially say: To your bro FL, fall’s defined firstly by the gridiron and secondly by travel.
I won’t go on about America’s Game any more. (Yes, I understand baseball used to be America’s Game. But it’s been rightly dethroned and any who wish to argue it ought to be otherwise are kindly invited to leave. I can make this statement with great confidence that zero people will now leave. Yeah, MLB, it’s like that.)
Anyway, back to not going on about football. The other great thing about the fall is it’s the absolute best time for great travel.
And this is precisely because:
1) Everybody else does their trippin’ in the summer;
2) The weather’s cooler;
3) There’s fall color; and
4) Virtually any hotel, motel, vacay rental, etc. has more TV channels for football than we have at Casa Libre.
Which is to say, you are correct: I will unrepentantly watch football on TV during vacations at every odd minute available in the room or lobby or restaurant or otherwise.
Wake up first thing Saturday and grab lobby coffee? The pregame show with closed captioning larger than life is blown up on the bigscreen near the lounge.
Post-breakfast tooth-brushing in the room? Early Big-10 kickoffs display on mute so as to not bother Lady Libre while I scrub a year’s worth of enamel off my molars for 20 minutes.
Lunch out? The TV in the corner you pretty much have to walk by to get to the bathroom a very necessary four times is inexplicably tuned to ESPN 6 and is showing some “directional” MAC teams like the Eastern Saskatchewan State Fighting Rutabagas versus the Southern Punxsutawney Technical Mining Institute Phils in a 2 to 3 shootout.
Mid-afternoon stop back in the room before heading out for evening activities? ACC or early SEC action, maybe some Big-10 and Pac-10, plus maybe a glimpse of the conference formerly known as the Big-12, all on a rapid cycle of channel-flipping, all while changing clothes. Do these pants make me look distracted?
Post-dinner relaxation? SEC night game, some Pac-10, and highlights from the comfort of a mattress that’s only been used by half a million other people help wind down the day.
It works out perfectly. Oh, and going new places and seeing stuff is nice too. You know, for in between games. Like commercial breaks, except with less Viagra.
In the spirit of great fall travel, Team Libre recently did an amazing trip that I’d love to tell you about.
Unfortunately, all I remember is the stupid rain delay that made the Ohio State halftime show last 17 hours and totally screwed up my mid-afternoon gridiron time.
So instead I’d like to point your attention to the awesome chronicles of someone else’s travels into the northern delights of Nova Scotia, where, I’ve heard, college football may not be so readily available as it is in the states. Which is appalling.
And which should only serve to underscore the valiant and noble efforts of super-cool bro Mr. Crazy Kicks for venturing into terra incognita during football season.
For a great story of fortitude, adventure and moose (but no crab cakes or football, sadly), check out Mr. CK’s two posts about his travels here (first) and here (second). They’re magazine-quality write-ups that might even make you want to visit Nova Scotia. During football season. Which is weird.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some games that need watching.
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