Dear Kid,

And then, with the snap of a ball, football season began.

Last night was the start of high school football season (at least for our team). We began with a scrimmage (“scrimmage” means it’s mostly unofficial, the rules are slightly different, coaches get to be on the field and yell at players close up, and the only people who care about which team won are on the winning team).

Fortunately, it was a lovely evening and a good time was had by all.

And my friend Stacey is selling a boat, so if you know anyone who’s interested…

Tonight we are heading downtown for the Bengals’ pre-season game. This will be my first live-and-in-person major league football game. I’m telling you, this is quite a sports week for me. First baseball, then football, then football. I am very excited.

Years and years ago, a certain little boy (not naming names or anything) liked to watch football on TV. His little sister (still not naming names) would ask lots and lots of questions during the game which frustrated the little boy. The frustrated little boy (who chose to solve this particular annoyance by ignoring it) and the Dad-of-selective-hearing expressed Utmost Surprise when the hilarious and lovely mother barked at them for not answering the little girl’s questions. “Don’t you want her to enjoy watching football with you?” said that very same brilliant Madre. “You won’t like it at all if she wants to watch something different and you want to watch football.” Sage-like. [But not from an actual sage because that role’s taken.]

In an act of selflessness, deep insight, and a bit of self-preservation, the little boy (after heaving a might sigh to show just how unjust the world was being) took it upon himself to teach the little girl about football. At least until the next commercial.

And see where we are now? Watching the GirlChild play varsity football and going to a major league football game.

Did I mention that my friend Stacey is selling a boat? She didn’t tell me the boat’s name, but I understand that boats are fairly indifferent to being renamed.

I was going to look up all sorts of interesting statistics about the Jets vs Bengals game but my laptop is still sick and seems to be running some sort of fever at the moment. Not to worry—I can still provide lots of pregame analysis.

One of the teams playing is expected to win. This will not delight the other team. Commentators (professional and amateur) will have a great deal to say about who won, who lost, and whether the quarterback was given too many lollipops as a 3^rd grader.

Many people will attend the game and most of them will indulge in stadium food. A very large man by the name of Jimmy Bones will be on hand to make loans for anyone wanting to purchase a vegetable cup. Enjoy every bite of that crudité.

Someone at the game will think the weather is too warm. Someone at the game will think it is too chilly. No one will be dressed for snow. This is ok, since no one is anticipating any snow. (Except perhaps the kind without the “w” that comes in a paper cone.)

At least once you father will explain to the entire western hemisphere why the referees are right. And at least once he will explain to the entire solar system why they are wrong. Someone will disagree. With luck, there will not be a discussion about it and Mr. J. Bones does not like to be taken away from high finance to resolve academic disputes.

Oh, hey, guess what? My friend Stacey is selling her boat. As far as I can tell, it’s a very nice boat and has never peed on the living room carpet.

Love, Mom