It’s not you, National Football League. It’s me. Well, and maybe partly you. I don’t know. I just need some space right now. You’re smothering me.
I mean, I get it: it’s Week Three of the preseason, the regular season is right around the corner, so of course you get to talk about yourself all the time.
The problem is, though, when don’t you talk about yourself? Or at least have your ever-present friends talk about you?
During the season, it’s fine — totally get it. Although it’d still be nice if you'd tone it down some. Understandably, the playoffs and Super Bowl only increase the noise, but you’d think when the end of the season rolls around you all would need to take a break from each other.
Yet alas. Once it’s over, you don't wait a second to begin talking about next year. You even moved your big party to welcome all the new guys a month later so there’s less time in between it and your big annual camping trip.
I can’t do this constant “in my face stuff” anymore. You’ve gotten too egotistical and narcissistic, preaching how great you are — about how much everyone loves you, about how much better you are than other leagues out there — that I’ve gotten used to steeling myself against you, and now I just can’t muster up the excitement to care again.
Enough is enough.
For the first time I can remember, I’m really just apathetic about the next few months. I no longer look forward to the time we spend together.
I seek other places for my attention to focus. There are plenty of other opportunities out there. I still have the National Hockey League, who was with me all the way through childhood, starting up here pretty quick. The Major League Baseball races are heating up as we turn the page to September, too. There’s even some newer sports on the rise here that the rest of the world already knows about, apparently.
Your younger version and all his college friends still get it, at least for the most part. Even though some of them have begun to turn into you too early, many are still full of the passion, spirit and excitement you’ve managed to stamp out of me.
I mean, we can still be friends. I’ll check in from time to time, especially around Thanksgiving, and probably even come to your Super Bowl party. I mean there’s food and more than just your friends there, so it’ll be fine. And, again, there’s food. Plus when you take a break, people usually tell really great stories while eating food, although even those haven’t been as good in recent years. Did I mention the food, too?
I’ll admit we had a pretty good run. Many a Fall Sunday during my childhood was spent glued to the television screen watching you, or listening to the radio for updates if we happened to be driving that day.
We’ve run our course for now, though. Maybe some day in the future you’ll have been humbled enough again to where I might enjoy watching you — when the excitement has returned for me.
For now though, I bid thee adieu.
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