Put me in coach

The pumpkin farm was bustling with customers, eager over fall’s bewitchment of the bountiful land. Crisp air, hot apple cider, and children’s laughter echoed through piles of leaves. With a bloody carving knife, Jack-O-Lanterns would wake from the dead, and trick or treaters’ candy would be spiked with razor blades and arsenic. And what would harvest time be with out some good old fashioned American FOOTBALL.  Tackles are made in leaf pits. Mothers tell their toddlers to go long. And little girls keep dressing up as cheerleaders for howl-o-ween. America’s now favorite past time, not baseball, we are in the 21st century, the NFL has usurped that throne, has caused me much anguish and hardship this season. Please find my list of grievances below:

I am in an abusive relationship. It is called I’m an alumna of the University of Colorado at Boulder. A fine academic institution that has instilled me with value such as: the importance of pursuing scholastics lifelong, respecting my fellow intellectuals and literary-types, balancing self discipline and moderation, and most of all the worth of Coors Light. It is worth gold. I also happen to bleed black and gold for a lackluster football team headed by Coach Hawkins. I watch the games with an open heart and am sorely disappointed. The Buffalos are not getting their act together. I keep a hoping and a praying that for a hail mary, a fourth down conversion, field goals, anything. Every game I come back, and every time I get punched in the throat. When will enough be enough? Following, I have been encouraged to partake in one of the most evil things known to humankind- bar fights. A fan from the opposing team tried to provoke me with a “Don’t you feel dumb wearing that jersey?” The thing is – you can’t break up with your diploma. And remember, violence never solves anything.


Plush toys are good for a beating.


I really like to hike the ball, throw the ball, and try to catch the ball. For a wuss like me, I prefer the softness of foam. Nerf balls keeps evading me. I purchased one at the Walmart shoppe for a whopping $4, placed it beneath my coffee table and admired its colors of neon orange and purple. At long last, I found a partner to toss the aforesaid ball, and it has gone missing! I don’t let people into my house for this very reason! Ha. Luckily for me, I have a dear friend that purchased a $20 pigskin for us to run plays with. During Katie’s visit, we did not really have enough time to play football. Garcon, please get me a raincheck. 

I hope before all the leaves tumble and the vat of cider has run empty, that the football will be nice to me again. If not, I’ll just have to take up other autumn hobbies like wheelbarrow races.

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