We're more excited than Ben Roethlisberger at an Oklahoma women's basketball party that football season is upon us. It's been a long summer of toiling in the barren fields of baseball, where we have to romance the shit out of the sport and pretend to care about things like batting averages, RBIs and division leads to make it bearable while understanding that it really is just a way to stave off depression between February and August. That is all but forgotten now. Everything is ok. Life is back in balance. Fantasy football phone applications have been downloaded. Justin Forsett has been drafted in 14 team leagues. Spikes in cholesterol have been seen nationwide. Sales of anti-depressants have all but stopped. Guiltless Saturday and Sunday binge drinking has returned. Six-game parlays are in play. Thank you football. Thank you.
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