40 Yards And A Mule

Today is the biggest of the three days per year that I care about football. I live in Savannah Georgia so I have adopted the Falcons and now they’re going to the Super Bowl and I am going to a pizza place.

I don’t eat pizza and I don’t play football but I’m very excited about how today is going to go.

I will be home in an hour and my family will be waiting for me while I unpack for 10 minutes, wash my armpits, and engage in total American domesticity.

One question. Why do we refer to the quarterback as if he is going to single-handedly win or lose a game? That has always bothered me and it should bother the quarterback. More importantly it should offend the other guys on the team.

I’m going to start to blame all wins and losses on the left offensive tackle just to raise awareness so that next year we will see quarterbacks march in protest on the Super Bowl. Because white, 3rd generation football player’s lives matter too… sort of.

And that brings me to the most important point of my blog today and the real reason I ever watch football.  Today I will watch out of shape white guys on the sidelines with their shirts talked into their dockers getting lambasted by black super athletes as they fly out of bounds. It’s not 40 acres and a mule but it’s a start and it happens every Sunday during football season. It is exactly why I think football could not be more American.

Happy Super Bowl everybody. Never forget.

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