My Global Position Systems are Vocally Addressed...

I have two footballs, both official sizes. One is a Nike 1000 Spiraltech football, with the two white stripes designated as a collegiate football. The other is a Wilson NFL football, with the "Super Grip Cover", which honestly isn't very super nor grip-y. But a pigskin is a pigskin, and both footballs suit my needs.

I haven't played a pick-up football game in years--I haven't known enough willing football enthusiasts to actually have one. I can catch a ball, but my throw is nothing more than pathetic, sadly. So, to sooth my needs to toss "the ol' pigskin around", I often find myself tossing the ball up into the air in such a fashion that it'll spiral back down to me, where I make my skilled 40-yard touchdown pass that only a Pro-bowl wide out, such as myself, could only make. So, in other words, I'm the kid, whom we all knew in elementary school, and who had no friends so that he had to play catch with himself--a sad confession that I'm now making public on the vast world wide web.

Ironically, my parents' toy poodle, Stanley, always finds someone to toss his favorite ball across the room to chase after... an observation that has led me to conclude that Stanley is more popular than me.

Today is obviously a big day for me. It's a big day for America. On Friday at work, I was finishing a fairly-serious and important phone call with a man I had never met before, and he ends the call with a warm wish to, "enjoy the weekend, and the big game". And earlier that day, I was speaking with a junkyard car parts dealer in Phoenix (for personal-related reasons, not work-related), and to warm up our mutual car part arrangement, I mention his Cardinals, to which he replies, "we're so excited". I couldn't bear to tell him, that my 1st favorite team, the Pittsburg Steelers, are going to beat the Arizona Cardinals for their "six pack of Super Bowl wins". I like to call it, "one for the other thumb".

The Super Bowl is exciting of course, and with games such like this I often find myself on my parents' couch in front of my parents' 52-inch'er making those game-winning Super Bowl catches that I alluded to above. It is in this focused tossing and catching, that the football (the NFL one--I'm watching a NFL game, of course) soars too high (I put a little too much spin on that one), and it hits the ceiling.

Instinctively, my first thought is a thought of concern, that someone heard me rough-housing in the basement. Then looking up, I see a sight, which warms my heart...

I don't know if this one football toss had just caused it but upon viewing the rest of the ceiling, and noticing multiple skid marks scattered around the area above the couch, presumably caused in a similar fashion, I think to myself,

"It has been a wonderful football season"

My blog entry is interrupted by J-Mil hollering at me from the other room:

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:12PM) Jenny: Tom, the game is starting.

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:12PM) Tom: I know.

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:12PM) Jenny: Where are you? (still yelling)

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:12PM) Tom: In my room. Why?

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:13PM) Jenny: The game is starting.

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:13PM) Tom: It doesn't start until 4:28.

(Sun, Feb 1st, 4:13PM) Jenny: Come and let Stanley [back in the house].

Back to my post:

I can't wait until next fall. I might just get BYU season tickets and I've also been playing around with the thought of flying down to Dallas to see BYU vs. Oklahoma at the Cotton Bowl (the new Dallas Cowboys stadium)... this is so exciting.

Laura says I shouldn't blog about football anymore, so with my above comments, I'll hold off until next season begins...

* * * * *

Things started off on the right foot yesteday, in what I hope to be the third biggest personal achievement for me (third to only the mish and my Economics B.A.)...

I picked Mark up at 9:30 AM, and left on what we expected to be an hour-and-half drive to Electric Lake. 3 hours later, and after a flirtatious gas attendant and a wrong turn, we arrived at the trail head. We parked, strapped on the snowshoes, and facing the mountain I turned to Mark with an extended index finger and said, "number 1".