Thursday night it begins again. Hank, Jr. will sing the song (in whatever variation the producers have concocted this year) and then Al and John will take the mike and usher us into the new season.
The new NFL season.
I'm not as jazzed as I might have been in younger days...parity and free agency have reduced the League to pale shadow of its former glory...but I'm ready just the same. My Sundays are cleared...my Monday nights are cleared as well...my fantasy teams are drafted and ready to rumble...yes, I'm ready.
The Raiders...the team of my heart...will probably not be contenders this year....but then again they might be. And in either case I will stand by them still (after more than two decades of ups and downs...mostly downs...I am, now and always, a fan of unwavering loyalty and guarded, admittedly rose-colored optimism.)
The Chargers...the team of my hometown...will probably not be contenders either. But stranger things have happened and, however improbable it might seem, it could happen for them too. Anything can happen and that's, as a very wise man likes to say often during the season, why they play the games.
So yes, I'm ready. I'm ready for some controlled mayhem. I'm ready for some brutal ballet. I'm ready for some tackles and touchbacks and touchdowns. I'm ready for some football.
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