
The return of live sports is currently under discussion with a befuddling number of contingency plans, from truncated seasons to venues of crickets. Get your popcorn ready!
During these apocalyptic times, Quarantine Fatigue is hitting us hard!
How many can remember what our former workplace looks like? What month it is? What century?
So, it was strange and refreshing to have one major sporting event proceed on schedule (even if virtually): the NFL draft.
Oh, you don’t give two hoots about American football, you say? You’ve never even heard of this alleged draft?
Admittedly, we all do have bigger fish to fry nowadays.
But, for sports fans, it was a nice change of pace to have a momentary distraction from pandemic gloom and doom, and to provide a false sense of normalcy. Viewership was up 35% from last year, granted we were literally a captive audience (and you can only watch Tiger King so many times).
As deep, passionate, and long as rivalries span, the one thing that unites all fans and players is their universal contempt for accountable-to-no-one-Judge-Jury-and-Executioner-Commissioner Roger Goodell.
Seeing Goodell get heartily booed as part of the yearly tradition was heart-warming. Although the fact that he now openly encourages it takes all the fun out.
Perhaps you aren’t familiar with any of the players, much less the rookies graduating from the college ranks into the big leagues.
However, you’ve certainly heard of the GOAT that is Tom Brady: proud ambassador of moon boots (aka UGGs); intense competitor who will eviscerate his co-workers on camera; husband of an international super-model; the envy of many straight men in this galaxy; and a real sight for sore eyes to none.
Breaking Up Is Easy To Do When You’re Getting $50M Fully Guaranteed
Brady’s quickie divorce from his dispassionate work husband of 20 years, Bill Belichick, was a stunner, drawing the human bulldozer of cornerbacks and safeties, Rob Gronkowski, out of retirement to rekindle a beautiful bromance.
What is the name of this moving telenovela that we are watching?
We finally received a “BREAKING NEWS” alert that wasn’t COVID-related.
Oh, how tears of heartbreak now flow in snow-kissed New England and tears of joy flow in sun-kissed west Florida.
The 2020 season is still planned to kick off in September, so Bucs fans should just buy their Super Bowl tix now—it will be hosted in Tampa after all.
Hmmm . . . on second thought, the quote above coupled with Gronk’s re-location to the land of steamy, barely-clothed temptation gives one pause. Maybe Belichick and his scouting team will have the last laugh after all. . . .
Contingency Planning Like There’s No Tomorrow
Widely known, the NFL is burning the midnight oil to draw up Plan B, Plan C, Plan D, Plan X to the infinite power to get the show back on the road. There are only billions of dollars at stake.
And they know how excited fans are to watch the bromance of Brady and Gronk produce more Super Bowl Championship babies among other juicy story lines.
For instance, will Andy Reid continue sporting his chic Tommy Bahama tops during training camp? Fans must know!
The 17-game schedule, with all of its caveats and flowchart permutations, will be released by May 8th.
We could see a postponed start, empty stadiums (not a big change for the horribly-named Redskins), and a compressed play-off schedule. However, no reduction in the number of regular season games!
So, the show will go on (only if the players’ union approves, of course).
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game!”
This is no longer a fun 7th inning stretch tune—it is a desperate cry!
Therefore, Major League Baseball is getting creative to appease the masses and play on.
The season could start around the 4th of July, which is so fitting for America’s sport (even if football is more popular and lucrative), be held with quarantined players at neutral sites, and see a Thanksgiving-themed World Series (in November).
But the League is taking no chances either . . . hopefully the season won’t be cancelled so that we have the opportunity to see if “Baby Shark” can against all odds catapult the Nats back into the World Series (I’m not biased, it is my neighborhood team after all)!
Meanwhile, the NBA’s 2019 — 2020 season is still up in the air. Would you mind watching the NBA Finals in the Fall just to shake things up?
Yet, next season will start around the time of Santa’s arrival, possibly held at neutral venues as well. Maybe Santa can deliver a Christmas miracle with some stylish Christmas Day uniforms for once while he’s at it!
Play Ball!
It will be interesting if fans return to stadiums with their cheers and taunts muffled through face-masks. Opposing teams may not mind!
The double benefit is kick-starting local economies, with so many jobs and businesses dependent on fan turnout. Getting the sports machine churning again gives us two things to cheer about!
Once the coast is clear, one thing would indubitably bring fans back in droves: Baby Yoda.
Intriguingly, NFL teams passed on drafting the little guy.
Sure his 40 time is 40 minutes, he possesses no vertical leap to speak of, and what is his catch radius?
Yet, in that adorable tiny frame, he packs more power than a freight train, can read defenses (their thoughts rather), never incurs a holding penalty thanks to his telekinetic abilities, is unflinchingly loyal to his teammates, and will probably accept payment in “chicky nuggies” and/or frogs.
Upping the reality show that is live football, Baby Yoda could be Brady and Gronk’s adopted love child. That is something all of us would watch and cheer (take note, Jon Favreau)!
~Jennifer
Sooo funny Jennifer. U have great sense of humor. Love it
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