I don’t actually have anything to write about football. Truth be told, behemoths crashing into each other hold little allure.

I do think the possibility of repeatedly getting you’re bell rung, as the cliche goes, might be creating a whole lot of murderous crazy. How is it not the days of Roman bread and circuses?

Still and all, I will probably cook up some chili. It may be a protein laden pot sans legumes of any kind as the man in my life has been getting in touch with his caveman forebears, at least dietetically.

Tomorrow, we will be Romans. We will be Neanderthals. We will be observers. We will be sports fans. We will be Americans.