We are keeping Clempson guessing. We have simplified the playbook. We have vanilla. We are going to get back to basics.
I have a heavy sense of foreboding about this game and this entire season. I'm really afraid that we are going to look like squirrels fudgeing a coconut on offense, Gus and Lash will pinwheel around looking confused and unable to fix what's broken, we'll damage egos and hamstring ability by "competition" and it will be a clusterfudge of monumental proportions.
I'm tired of the "defense is really flying around and going to be good..." bullshoot too.
I'm just tired. I don't know if it's bama fatigue or if I am just less inclined to care, but I feel less and less as time goes on.
There was a time in my life when by this point in the year I'd read every magazine, had a schedule on the wall with times and dates committed to memory, I knew the jersey number of the starting 22 and most of the two deep so I would know who was on the field and what we were doing. And by now I was redecorating the house in orange and blue. No more. I haven't even picked up a single magazine. I have no idea when our first game is. I thought it was this Saturday, honestly. I have no idea what time we play. And it doesn't bother me.
This describes me to a T. Or is it a Tee? Tea? Whatever.
I don't recall ever being less excited going into a football season. Maybe it's because I've moved to Georgia and therefore not inundated with all things crimpsun so my hatred has tempered. Maybe I'm too busy chasing 3 rugrats around to have time to do much else. I don't know what it is, but I do know I'm already at the mid-season mehs and we haven't even kicked off the first game.
Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it's subconsciously I know we are going to get slaughtered by the Fightin' Dabbos and I've decided not to set myself up to be pissadointed. Even though I still will be.
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