Fuhbawl Season

College Football Season is here.


It’s rather strange – after waiting all this time, I find I’m underwhelmed. Not that I’m not enjoying college football; it’s more that triathlon training is taking all of the time and energy, so even watching the games is anticlimactic.

With almost all of the games this weekend, I was purely an observer, with no emotional stake whatever. Usually I have a complex “rootology” worked out – who I’ll root for against whom, for what reasons, and how intensely. There are long and involved rules about this: they start with “Team, State, Conference” (Alabama, then Auburn, then the Western Division of the SEC, then the SEC as a whole) and go down a long and involved flow chart, ending with “…and root against Notre Dame, USC, Oregon, Ohio State, and Oklahoma State”.

But this weekend, none of that mattered; even the Alabama game didn’t generate much in the way of passion (not that it was necessary; that game was never in doubt) and the rest of the slate left me flat as fizzed coke. I generally do not watch football games leaning backwards; this weekend, I barely got vertical.

That’s a bad thing. And it probably feels worse right now, since I’m so tired. When I’m this tired, it seems like I’ve ALWAYS been this tired, that I’ve never felt better and I’ll never feel better. Things become sort of fuzzy; I find I don’t care as much. I don’t like it, and I don’t like not liking it.

Now, this is the first weekend, and we’ve played West Virginia, and we haven’t settled on a quarterback yet, and the next two weeks are cupcakes; three Saturdays from now, we play Florida, who shouldn’t be any threat, and that weekend I’ll be in Tahoe getting ready for the Big Race(tm), so I might not be worked up yet.

After that, who knows? Maybe when SEC play sets in, and this triathlon is over, it will feel like football season. I sure hope so.

(editor’s note: two paragraphs above, I almost typed “I’m supposed to be in Tahoe”. My training has worn me down; I’m in worse shape now than I was three, or six, or nine, months ago. I can swim farther, but that’s the only real improvement. And indications are that the water is going to be even colder than it was in St. George, when cold shock sent me into hyperventilation, so even though I’m “committed’ to completing Tahoe, I wake up at night worrying about it; sometimes I am dreaming about it and the anxiety wakes me up. My sponsor once said “when something stops being fun, then it stops being recreation”. We’ll see.)


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