"Yeah the Monday night crowd can get a little rowdy but Thursday night is usually pretty tame."

Hank: Are you ready?

BG: What’s that Hank?

Hank: I said ARE YOU READY?

BG: Ready for what Hank?

Hank: Blah blah blah blah blah gonna get it kick started blah blah blah blah blah!

So yes, friends–it’s that time again.  That time of the year when we all get together and cheer on our favorites while drinking PBR and eatin’ wings.  But enough about the US Open, let’s talk about THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE for a moment.  Wait, actually back to the Open for a moment–where do these Russian girls come from?  Like every other man who tells everybody he is 5’7″ when really the truth is somewhere south of there, I dream of bedding a six-foot woman so my children have a chance of having a normal life.  The closest I ever got was with TiAnn Asquena (sorry if your name is spelling wrong Ti) who was 5’10″ and I met her at a party on DP I think at Brian Six’ house?  Does that sound right?  It sounds right to me.  Anyway, it was weird.  I mean 5’10″ is pretty tall.  When we would walk around downtown I would walk on the sidewalk and I would make her walk in the gutter so at least we were at eye level then.  She was also a dancer and of course her Dance Team (are they called Teams?  Are they Troupes?  I really don’t know) step your game up performed at half-time at some random UCSB Basketball game.  Needless to say, I don’t date dancers.  Not because I think I am too good or not good enough for them but it’s just one of those rules I live by.  I’ve seen The Last Dance (I think) I know that there is some Dance Code where Dancers can only date other Dancers and I am many things but Tiny Dancer is not one of them.  So that didn’t work out.  Anyway, teenage Russians that all look like they were berthed from the same test tube…yeah, I can get on board with that.

But I digress.  I was writing about football because today, of course, is Monday and what I thought was the 14th and final week of Preseason Football Action (it’s faaaantastic) so I logged onto my compuserve account through my 1200 baud modem to see which two giant helmets would come flying towards each other and then explode.  But what the heck?    Could my Gateway computer be lying to me?  No game tonight?  The season starts on (20% less rowdy) Thursday?  I had to do a mental checklist and ask myself, am I really ready for some football?  Let’s run through the playbook:

Beer in fridge? One bud light, left here four weeks ago by either Jeff Greenfield or Scott Linklater so yes, that is a check.

Potato chips ready? Automatic check mark, don’t even ask ridiculous questions.

Two fantasy teams drafted? No.  I only have one but I have the next two days off and I am sure I will be able to take some Yahoo Public League down to freaking Chinatown with a quick and painless live draft.

Random Favorite Team to Root For This Year: As the semi-proud owner of Marques Colston and Pierre Thomas, I’m just one good excuse away from buying a New Orleans Saints hat.  Check.

So four-for-four on the check marks = I am 100% ready for the start of the season Mr. Williams Jr.  I’ll work on getting some more beers because just that one in there is sad.  If it helps my cause at all I do have two bottles of champagne in there.  Why?  No clue.