Perhaps is was growing up and being smothered by Nebraska football. It’s the length of the telecast: too long, too much talking, cuts into my prime-time TV viewing Sunday nights. Most of all, the rabid fans spewing and shouting as if they have some financial investment at stake (you know, beyond the occasional square they purchased at the bar or overpriced NFL-approved merchandise). I used to use the time as a great excuse for shopping and a movie, but New Orleans isn’t a great place for shopping or non-mainstream movies. Hell, even the nail salons will have football on their TV!
There’s no escape. My twitter feed is full of nonsensical mutterings; if it were coherent, I could pretend it was a box score equivalent of baseball game (which strangely, I like. Go figure.). All I can do is pray for February and it’s all over.