It’s Opening Day and I’m up for the kickoff. I pull on my#87 Bears jersey and warm up with a bucket of buffalo wings. I belt out the Star Spangled Banner, win the coin toss and elect to receive.
It’s Opening Day and I’m wired. I tune my TV remote to Fox Sports with the NFL Red Zone on the flip, zap a full charge into my iPhone and pop fresh batteries into my Walkman.
“Here’s the kickoff…And they’ll start at the 34,” is all the TV man says. Then he says, “Let’s look at the Bears offense,” and each player mumbles or sneers his name and his school into the camera. Back to the action. I picture, but can’t see, the ribbon across the TV screen that shows the vital signs: score, possession arrow, game clock, down and distance. These stats remain unspoken in TV land. Rather, the play-by-play man, his sidekick and the sideline lady banter about this and that and Roger Goodell and Ray Rice. Meanwhile, the game streams past, unadorned save for the crowd noise which I interpret to mean either good news or bad news for the Bears.
Beer commercial. I flip to the Red Zone. One team has the ball at the other’s twenty and throws an incomplete pass and so the clock stops so they go to another game where another team has the ball at yet another team’s ten and they call a time out to think about things.
Back to the Bears. Someone is running into the end zone with the ball. TD pass? Interception? The extra point is good and one team leads the other by seven. No one says who leads whom. They cut to a Chevy commercial.
I hit the mute on the remote, tune my Walkman to Bears radio, unlock my iPhone and pepper Siri with football questions. Freed from my TV tether, I blitz, I fake, I run to daylight. I race from one end of the radio dial to the other. This Bears fan, like his team, is resourceful. When the ground game falls short, try passing the ball. Put old #87 into the game. He’s flexible, he’s eager and he’s wired.