I need more tight pants in my life

It's March. What does this mean? No damned football. No college football for 2 months now. No pro football for one month now. No football for 5 more frickin' months. I'm dying already. Le pout.

I was in a bar, waiting for a friend to meet me for a few games of pool, and was getting teased on the T.V. by some soundless commentary on Ben Roethlisberger (and upon googling to figure out how to spell his name, I found that he just signed an 8-year contract with the Steelers). It hit me then and there how much I miss my legions of tight-pantsed men. Don't be fooled - those quarterbacks, wide receivers, and running backs don't spend hours a day in the gym because they enjoy it - they spent their time there because I enjoy it. I enjoy them in their tight, shiny pants. Football combines two of my favorite things: men and shiny objects. Actually three of my favorite things: men, shiny objects, and beer (which makes objects even shinier). This could go on and on, because I also love wings, nachos, sports bars, redheaded sluts.... But at this point in the doldrums of the year with no westerlies in sight, I'll take an offensive line man at this point. Maybe I'll start running again just so I can jog by the CU practice field and listen to the loud speakers calling out plays. I'm obviously desperate here.

On a side note: Shit. Pete just died.

And this bring me to my next revelation. I know its spring when I start watching Rudy because I miss the constant entertainment of football. Usually my Rudy fetish is confined to hungover Saturday morning movie watching escapades. So many times I would actually put in Shrek to watch as I dozed on the couch with my head pulsating in beat with my heart. But then the "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron" trailer would come on (yes, its a VCR, and fast-forwarding is too much effort), and it uses the theme to Rudy (guess Jerry Goldsmith needed the royalties). So, I would instantly pull Shrek out and put Rudy in. Pure contentment. But apparently I've moved on to Monday evening post-pool PBR-induced escapades. I like to think that this means I'm moving up in the world.

Basketball then came on at the bar. Speaking of doldrums, basketball is the albatross around my neck. West Virigina was playing someone, hell if I know whom, hell if I care. Typically I enjoy watching WVU play football, but basketball (any team, any level) just doesn't do it for me. I don't think even tight pants would change this for me. March Madness entertains me to some degree, especially when I put in a bracket and it does well. And the fact that Bill Simmon's live blog on espn.com is one of the highlights of my life. I highly recommend that you check it out. But otherwise - nahh. At least I guess I only have a month until baseball season. I do love peanuts....

But for now, I have to get back to my tight-pantsed men standing in for my tight-pantsed men. As if Rudy didn't kick ass enough, remember that he was not only a Goonie (and Goonies never say die), but he was Samwise Gamge, as well. And Sam's everything I've always wanted in a hobbit.

In conclusion, I would like to quote Pete quoting Pete's dad: "It's like my dad always said 'Having dreams is what makes life tolerable'. " May I dream of football...and shiny objects.