There is a football game this afternoon. Living in the Seattle area, it is hard not to be aware of it. And because this region does not have a history of winning sports teams, that makes for a very big deal for those who follow such things.
Myself, I’ve never gotten it. My earliest memories about football were probably around age five or so, observing my father sitting utterly transfixed and engrossed by a flickering screen displaying images of men in uniforms arranging themselves in formations and charging back and forth across a rectangular field. It was a mystery to me how such a thing could prove interesting or entertaining. It still is.
So if the weather is good, I plan to take advantage of how I live on an island that still has its wild spaces by going on a walk in one of them. If it’s the expected raw, cold rain transitioning to a wet snow as an arctic front comes in, I’ll spend the day making copper jewelry.
I will either hear the celebrating or the silence and know the outcome, but it won’t seriously affect me either way. Sorry, sports fans. Just the way it is.