Half time talk . . .

It's half-time. I thought I would see how the writing skills do under pressure. Actually I just need to do something to keep me busy.

We are a strange lot, we human beings. If you pay attention to this blog, you know it is not unusual for me to give thought to important notions that I am passionate about: poverty, hunger, economic disparity, social injustice, war, spirituality, politics, cheetohs, coffee . . .

But right now my stomach is churning, my heart is pounding, and I think my calves are cramping up. And football is not even my favorite sport.

I rarely get this intense about the aforementioned important notions. But there is something about being for a team. I'm even for the band. They are on right now. Looking for JRay and his big drum. I think I saw the drum. Anyway, I get pretty intense. I love people, but I don't really like to watch games on TV with more than three or four people, and they don't need to do a lot of chatting. We got to focus. I love to be a part of the crowd at the game. I'm one of those fans that thinks I make a difference by being there. I really believe that. Of course I believe that talking to the television also makes a difference. That may not be quite as valid. But it is fun.

I don't think there's anything wrong with this feeling. A win makes me feel good, and it only takes me about three hours to get over the debilitating effects of a loss. So right now I am enjoying a bit of escape from the bigger notions of life and the sad stuff that plagues me. That can't be a bad thing, can it?

How about that Javier Arenas? If we didn't have him, this season would look quite different I think.

Anyway, one of the things I am resolving this year is to figure out how to tap into that Bama passion that I am obviously capable of having and applying it to those aforementioned important things. Maybe that is what games are supposed to be about. To teach us things that will be helpful. Another high minded notion.

Right now let's go out, get a quick turnover, and kick some Ute butt.

RTR . later.