Maybe watching the Cowboys will
always mean a certain thing for me: Sunday dinner, then the game starts,
then at halftime run around the vacant lot throwing the football with
Brothatime!!, listening to John Madden and Pat Summerall broadcast the
game. A cold, dark Sunday with beef stew simmering on the stove,
homemade bread coughing up steam when you pull it apart. Anything else,
any other situation, and I don't seem too interested in the Cowboys.
Same as college football - it's not the same without the thrill of
bringing the ol' black & white tv (we called it a "set" back then!) into our room for a few hours on a Saturday to watch Notre Dame/Michigan or whoever (or the Celtics during the NBA season, another perfect example of what I'm talking about.) - XMASTIME
Now he's dead. Being outlived by John Madden's fat ass can't be great for your ego.
No comments:
Post a Comment