I was knocked up on TheraFlu when I wrote this. Forgive me if it goes astray.
Look, I’ve seen them come and go, but this one is going to be the worst.
I’m talking about winter, and the one we’re having now is killing me.
I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. That’s poetry.
No, wait. Here’s poetry. Let’s call it Bag Boy’s ode to winter.
How I love thee so, you great old bastard.
You comfort me as my butt sinks further into the couch, creating a permanent crevice.
Oh, shucks, there’s nothing on … or is there?
I see college basketball — Wright State vs. Old Somebody.
Yes, I’ll watch.
Football is done, I’ve nothing to live for.
The Pro Bowl doesn’t count — I’d rather watch a documentary on wildebeests.
Oh, you’re so bad, Winter. You’ve made me watch “The Lake House” 50 times … and now I like it!
Yes, the damage is done.
You’ve left me with nothing — the Bulls are un-watchabull, the Hawks are too far away.
Is it too much to ask, Old Man Winter,
To send me someone worth watching?
Thank you, thank you so much.
That’s how it feels when football ends.
Speaking of, it’s hard to believe, but that was Eli Manning who led the Giants to the Super Bowl win. I hear a lot of people around Chicago saying that “You know, I bet Rex Grossman can turn it around like Eli did.”
Yeah, right. Eli also had a defense that made Tom Brady look average and a great running game. Us? We have ancient offensive linemen and a defense that’s about to lose Lance Briggs.
Sorry, looks like we’re stuck with bad Rex. And bad football. Carry on.
Oh, great news. Ken “Hawk” Harrelson got a contract extension. I’m all for loyalty, but I think Jerry Reinsdorf is only loyal to kooks who love him.
Hawk is simply the biggest homer in a town that’s full of them. That’s it. That’s his resume. Loves the team, loves the boss. Here to stay … forever.
Like me … only I don’t have a home in Florida.
And it’s killing me.
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redeyesports@tribune.com
