Not to be confused with the Boys of Summer. This isn't 1941. No Joe Dimaggio 56 game hitting streak or Ted Williams hitting .406.
This is football. The new American past-time and it has my allergies acting up because I knew what it meant to put on the eye black and do bear crawls in the Texas heat.
I wore number 14 and played for the Little Rams at the ripe old age of 8. I ran the veer with the precision of a Royal-ite and washed down the tears of my Pop Warner opponents with a Tropical Punch Capri Sun. Could I pass? Yes I could pass. Thanks Coach Tanner.
For those nostalgic reasons, this video hit home with me. Also, because at this point in the year, I crave any kind of contact football like a Texas A&M sports facility craves bat guano.
I love Sean Payton's opening salvo as well as Mack Brown's statesman like finish. But I could do without the douchey Brett Favre histrionics and the Joe Namath buffoonery.
Barry Switzer over Darrell Royal? Did the producers really believe in their message? I mean really believe in it. As for the singer, HenryJames celebrates Kenny Chesney's entire catalog. For HJ, it doesn't get any better than when Chesney sings "How Forever Feels". That's country music with soul folks.
As for Vince Young's notable absence, it's just silly. It's like freezing Michael Jordan out of his Gatorade commercial in lieu of Bill Cartwright. Alas, Tom Landry and his fedora as well as Captain Comeback nearly make up for it.
But make no mistake, I won't be nearly as obliging if something like this appears next spring. Two short weeks until football season has me inordinately hospitable. You should be glad of it, you SEC pukes.