TOUCHDOWN!!!!

I love college sports.

Football, basketball, and even a dollop of volleyball or softball.
Love ‘em.
But somewhere between a raucous cheer and group high-five; lives insanity.
Hiding innocuously in the adult XXXL football jersey is a dangerous disease.
And where better to study borderline mascot disorder than the

Florida vs. Florida State game.
Nowhere!
90,000 fans…short for fanatics…dressed in team colors. Team spirit buttons.

Team body/face paint.
90,000 loyal addicts; radios in ears, glaring at the replay screen, and texting their
cohorts at home to see if the call was a good one.
Babies and innocent children, brought to the 100 yard tent revival learning the words to the traditional prayers…da da da da da Go Gators Get Up and Go

or

Florida State, Florida State, Florida State Whooo…
Or is that Whoo-Amen?

Not that a tailgating 12 Step Program wouldn’t help;
“I am powerless over my reptilian worship,”

but do those 90,000 folks really believe that the quality of their fall and winter weekends should be left up to pubescent boys in tight pants and helmets?
Really?

I’m just saying….
Having raised many of the male persuasion, and even a few that played college sports, allowing these tall toddlers to help decide 72 hours of my emotional welfare, would not be a good idea.
No So Much!
So here I sit with Husband watching the replay of a football game that ended less than 24 hours ago, that he has recorded twice already, listening to him question the plays/calls of an event that his team won….is already over….won’t change….doesn’t matter….
I can’t help but wonder if there is any hope?
If this pigskin paranoia is genetic or learned?

If there is a cure or therapeutic clinical trial on the horizon?

…if…..if….if….
Hold on, I'll be right back; it’s the fourth quarter and we have to lock arms and sing….
WE ARE THE BOYS FROM OLD FLORIDA…
Good Grief Charlie Brown!