Dear NFL: You Can’t Strike!

I love spring and summer, so fall is generally a bummer minus the gorgeous leaves and football. Yes, my impending winter blues are postponed by the sound of Monday Night football.

I’ve always been a sports fanatic, but there’s something about the crowds, Hank Williams Jr. and Jon Gruden that get my heart pumping a little faster. And, yes, I should never admit it – but I used to love the “Jacked-up” series done on ESPN by Boomer and the guys where they showed the best hits of the week. They stopped that once concussions became a big deal.

I’ve had five concussions of my own, so I put my damaged brain up against any quarterback in the league. If I can work and make money with an injured brain, then so can they.

Yes, I might forget every birthday of every relative in my family. And walk into a store and forget why I’m there, or call my kids by the wrong names . . . but I’m still making a living.

In addition, football provides an outlet for my menopausal rages. If I don’t have my outlet this fall, I might just start tackling people in public. For example, the woman who is in a long line at a store but feels she has the right to ask at least twenty-two questions about her item before buying. Boom!! If I could just hit the back of her knees with my left shoulder I would take her down.

Or the people at restaurants who act like their menu is the Da Vinci Code, and when their waiter asks what they’d like to order they hem and haw and ask questions and look quizzically at the items in front of them that are big, colored pictures. I would probably use a chop block on those people.

And, finally, the mother that talks in a very loud voice to her annoying child so everyone can hear what an amazing mother she is. “HONEY, YOU SHOULDN’T TELL THAT NICE MAN TO SHUT-UP. WHY DO WE ONLY USE NICE WORDS? TELL MOMMY WHAT WORDS YOU COULD HAVE CHOSEN INSTEAD?”

She would be speared, helmet first, and I would gladly take the penalty.

Come on, NFL, there can’t be a strike! Without you I might be arrested.

If my mention of “The Da Vinci Code” got you in the reading mood, here you go: