Getting By the Bye

It’s the dreaded bye week, my friends. Our favorite team will be absent from the TV, radio and other assorted media. Save your jokes asking why that is different than any other week.

The calluses that have formed on my vocal chords will start to fade. My heart rate will remain relatively constant. I will be neither manic nor depressed. Well, maybe a little depressed.

Most of all, I will be a rudderless. A wandering soul looking for meaning. There are no players, coaches, fans or media for me to direct my attention and analysis at. HawkBloggerWife is likely to catch me staring blankly at walls while the kids throw various toys at my head. It’s not pretty.

It’s a dangerous game the NFL plays. The NBA season is batting her eyes at me as it gets underway, and my Blazers are looking pretty interesting. The NFL, though, is the equivalent of Kate Beckinsale.

The League knows it can send me away for a week, and I’ll come crawling back. I wonder if Rams fans feel the same way.

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