The only thing that has been annoyingly beaten into the ground more than the
Boston media’s coverage of the possibility of a Red Sox-Rangers
pitcher-for-catcher trade this winter has been my incessant, uninvited ranting
about the football team I care about.
But other than a suggestion that
Jerry Jones could add another chapter to his legend by firing some people before
halftime ends, I have nothing left to say about the Cowboys season, other than
they have done me a huge favor today by laying down and spitting up, making way
for the anticipation of a season where the players don’t underachieve so
lifelessly, and predictably.
Plus, the words “overmatched,”
“undisciplined,” “pathetic,” and “nauseating” are worn out beyond recognition on
Forty-eight days, friends. Forty-eight days.