Had Ourselves...

…a merry little bowl season. We have our new boxers, pajama bottoms, Christmas tree necktie and cashmere scarf made in China. The boxers came just in time because our laundry is in still in the wash and fold place across the street. Can’t get there because of the Feast of St. Stephen storm that makes walking through unshoveled drifts treacherous. And more to come.

But the three kings came bearing gifts. We thought they were for us. But no! Mr. Dyer of the Auburn War Eagles, Plainsmen, Tigers (pick your nickname) rolled off an Oregon tackler without hitting the ground and was told to run by teammates when he thought he was down.

One is never down, though. The sun comes up, and if one steps gingerly through the havoc of city streets filled with trash and snow, stiff arms and spins he can get drop kicked by Jesus through the goalposts of life.

Mr. Bynum, place kicker for the Auburn side, eschewed the drop kick and let someone hold the ball as he executed his skill. We would never want to be a snapper, holder or kicker. Rather, if we were larger, we would be a right guard buried in the pile and far from scrutiny.

When we were a young slender halfback in a T-formation, the coach called what he called a 32-cross, that is, number 3 back through the number 2 hole. Alas, there was no hole and a man playing boys planted us on our rear end.

One is never down and out, though. We have the National Basketball Association (take Clippers against the points every time), the National Football League (take Seahawks to go all the way), NCAA basketball (take St. Mary’s of California against the points every time).

And never punt, always go for two points, always onside kick and never practice putting.