As I noted in a blog last weekend, we've already begun to have real college football (and the bride has already decreed that our schedules must be cleared for Ohio State-Texas on Saturday night). And tonight, we finally start real NFL football, as well as the official return of prime-time pro football to NBC. (Exhibition -- I mean, preseason -- games just do not count, unless you're a poor sap who gets injured in one.)
Not sure how much I will get to watch, but I know it will be some. And we've already been studying our Sunday schedule to allow plenty of viewing of the Browns game.
It's not that we have nothing else in our lives. You should see the calendar on the refrigerator. And we hardly lack for things to watch. We got to last night's ''Bones'' (on DVR after watching ''Rock Star'' in real time) but ''Justice'' is still there, along with ''The Closer,'' ''Prison Break'' and a couple of episodes of ''Vanished.'' Last night's viewing also included a long dip into the DVD of ''Grey's Anatomy's'' second season for my DVD column (appearing tomorrow). And there's a second episode of ''Jericho'' begging for my attention.
(I'm trying, Kay and friends. I'm really trying.)
But live sports remain a draw. And I'm psyched for the beginning of a new football season because anything is possible -- well, anything, apparently, other than Ben Roethlisberger staying out of the hospital.
Oh, I love baseball and basketball, too. My desk neighbor George Thomas, a football fan without peer, even wondered just now if I loved baseball more than football. It's a different thing. Baseball, with 162 games per team, is an endurance contest in viewing terms, and you can actually take a break here and there, especially when a team gets streaky.
Football feels meaningful every week. And I only need to see, oh, 50 or 60 games a season to feel satisfied.