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The Unbearable Nothingness of the Offseason

You're probably heard the old admonition that nothing good happens after midnight?  Well, if the NFL year was a day, it would be 4:45 am, a time when any activity would be bad activity, the kind I have no interest in viewing, even if, especially if it featured a Cowboy. 

Just look at the headlines.  See anything that affects the game in a positive way?

-- Steve McNair dies in a murder/suicide case. (makes a sad face)

-- Michael Vick near re-instatement.  (yawns)

-- The Commissioner again weighs disciplinary policy.  (shrugs)

-- Questions about the CBA and a possible future lockout peek their dark faces from around dark corners. (grimaces)

-- Jesse Holley wins a camp spot.  (snickers.  Yeah, that's supposed to be Cowboys news, but nobody can make me believe it.)

-- Brett Favre again hogs another off-season with his desperate search for attention. (rolls eyes)

To swipe the old Cynthia Heimel title, "how can we miss you if you won't go away?"  If you were still a productive quarterback this might be semi-interesting, but you've had one decent season since 2004.  You're the Dan Snyder of players -- your offseasons are now always far more interesting than your seasons.  At least Dan still retains the chance of improving one of these days.

In the not-so-old days, the NFL used to start seasons at its equivalent of dawn.  Now, in its zeal to push the Super Bowl into February sweeps and make the networks happy, the wake-up call has been delayed until 7:00 a.m.  If this were the old calendar, camp would be entering week two, and preseason games would be days away. 

Now, we're wide awake, with nothing to do but lie in bed and fidget. 

Just six more days, my friends, and we'll have real football again.

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