That brief introduction ushers in the annual male ritual of football, both college and professional. Every time this year I find myself preoccupied with thoughts of sacks, safeties, and potential. I could spend 5 hours on a Saturday and Sunday afternoon watching Football and confront minimal guilt.
Its hard to keep focused on work without looking up the latest information on the Dallas Cowboys. My love and allegiance to the Cowboys is amazing. My love for them is only falls behind my religion, wife, family, and friends. As can be expected, it is the hardest of my loves to justify and explain. One morning when I was a small kid my older brother explained how cool the 'Boys were. Since that day I have faithfully followed the team and football.
Despite all of the joy that has been brought into my life via the gridiron, I have to think about what I could have accomplished in my life if I were to have substituted football/sports time for a more worthy cause. I could have taught myself Italian. I could learned some new trade. I could master the intricacies of Wall Street. But these thoughts are soon interrupted by the familiar opening strains of the Monday Night Football theme and those visions of idealism are quickly replaced by the beautiful site of seeing Roy Williams laying out an opposing receiver.
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