...it ain't all that bad.
For the first time in He doesn't know how long, Lead Man was thinkin' about the game at 8:00am.
For the forst time in he doesn't know how long he moved to solitary confinement in the basement so he could REALLY concentrate on the game. No time to give the wife explainations of what's going on, no time for Thomas the Train.
For the first time in he doesn't know how long LP dared not doze at halftime, because if it carried over into the third quarter he might miss plays that actually meant something.
For the first time in he doesn't know how long LP bleieves he's watching a QB that knows what the hell is going on out there.
And, for the first time in he doesn't know how long, there's a pit in the Lead Man's stomach at the end of a Browns game.
That was an F'in football game out there today, and for every "if Chansi doesn't fumble we win" here in Cleveland, there are two "Die Nick Folk" chants in NY.
No moral victries to be sure, but GD, some friggin' football.
I'm gonna go now, gotta head somewhere, bout a 15 minute drive. And I'll be in a fog the whole way, barely remembering red lights and traffic.
Just like it used to be.
