Couched

Yesterday the song that is rapidly becoming one of my favorite tunes was once again issuing forth from my TV speakers sending a siren call that cannot be ignored. I am speaking, of course, of the theme music for the NFL Red Zone which featured its first full day of action for the new season. This filled the need for relevant sports programming (considering the debacle of the Sox from May through July) with no less than seven hours of commercial free football.

It’s appropriate that fall weather also started creeping in over the weekend as well. The college kids who inhabit the houses surrounding the Keene Friend seem to be on their best behavior this year. Could it be the Keene State administration has finally started to assume some responsibility for their students’ conduct in the host town? As soon as we went to bed on Saturday night, the fairly lively party that was ongoing across the street moved inside. It was a nice gesture even though I could have slept through a moderate sized gunfight after the beer sent downrange celebrating the Keene Friend’s birthday earlier that day. Buddy got his required early morning walk around Keene and we all went out to breakfast before hurrying home to accomplish pre-football tasks.

I checked in to Face Book a couple times during the day to find myself chastised by high school classmates who would have joined us Saturday if I had been more energetic with broadcasting our actual location. I took the counseling to heart and I guess I should mention there is a party next Saturday at Keene Friend Two’s house for all of us turning 60 this year. Contact me if you’re available late Saturday, the 19^th, afternoon. If you turned 60 this year and are affiliated with the KHS class of 1973 is some arcane fashion – you will be welcome.

Participation in fantasy football really does change the way you watch football. There are no meaningless games now. The Red Zone is the perfect complement to this. I greeted the host like a long lost friend when he appeared for the first time. My wife asked me who I was talking to and just shaking her head in disbelief. My team did fairly well and would have won against almost anybody else in the league except, predictably, the guy I was playing, none other than the commissioner himself, my favorite son. I’m sure he’s found some way to manipulate scoring to his advantage; that is the only explanation as to why I was so soundly defeated. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.