any given sunday

Here I am trying to do the best I can with what I have, the raw materials at my disposal are flirting with their used by dates, but there's still a little time left. Very little. I can't help but feel things would have worked out more favourably than they have now if I had only started a little earlier. There's probably a good reason for this.

Maybe Indiana Jones can make me feel better, "it's not the years honey, it's the mileage", I guess, or something, so all is not lost. Not much wear and tear here, not until the season started anyway. After the last two games I've managed to convince my knees that I've been playing on concrete rather than grass, my left shoulder feels like it's hanging on by a single tendon, and at least once per game I feel like I've been knocked out. Feeling like your knocked out and actually being knocked out are probably as close to being the same animal as wining and almost winning, still black misty impaired vision occasionally accompanied by stars, making me feel like I've teleported to a different time zone (we play mostly during the day), are close enough to the real thing to fill me with healthy sense of unease.

Multiple near concussions aren't the best way to spend your Sundays. I used to go to church instead. I am currently in violation of the sabbath. I've considered pulling a Steve Young, implementing my own version of the sacred day, Monday sounds good this week or possibly Wednesday, I'm just not sure my ecclesiastical leaders will approve (I don't make enough money). Should I use what remains of my talent for running over the top of people before it fully expires or should I cut and run and pay homage to my possible creator, on the biblically designated appropriate day, leaving my taste for preternatural violence to other equally barbaric humans? I think we all know the answer to this question. God you understand, right?

What's that? No reply? Very well then. Christian Bale has given the big screen so many wonderful gifts, let me count the ways: full frontal nudity as a serial killer, his turn as a poster child for anorexia, as a brooding saviour of humanity with that fondly irritating lispy-wannabe-Clint-Eastwood-JC-voice, and let's not forget as a brooding vigilante with that fondly irritating lispy-wannabe-Clint-Eastwood-bat-voice. Somehow The Dark Knight was still good. With that wonderfully tuned instrument he delivered the immortal line quoting Katy Holmes before him"It's not who you are underneath, it's what you do that defines you." Is this ever more true than in the world of men? Some say I'm a misogynist, but they've got it all wrong I'm actually a misanthropist, I make a point to not interact with any of my team mates unless absolutely necessary. I strongly believe in equal opportunity discrimination. As of late, although working through a protracted drought of tries (aka touch downs), what I've been doing is just running rough shod over the competition. It's amazing how people start kissing your bum when they see what you can do.

This is a different kind of religious experience, paint me gold and call me Baal. Like I said I should have started this a lot sooner.

(just kidding, kind of)