SATURDAY, JULY 11TH

Now, I love playing fantasy football just as much as anyone. It is exciting and it makes interesting games that one might rather not watch. I scour the Web pages and I get "professional" information sent to my in-box. I love football. Fantasy leagues just make the game better.

But...I ask you: Is July 11th too early for the league at work to start collecting dinero? I mean, criminy, Kickoff Weekend is at the beginning of September. That is, by my calculations, almost two full months away!

Never mind, I guess. I bought in to the football fever. I purchased my first fantasy football mag of the year a couple of daze ago. It'll be outdated within the month, but, hell, I just like reading about the men in tight pants. Who wear helmets (sometimes purple). Who crash into each other at high speeds and, sometimes, knock each other unconscious. The game itself is a walking hard-on. The only places you'll find more testosterone are prisons and Rosie O'Donnell barbeques.

I like the fact that a Lion is highly-touted. Cal Johnson, receiver, is ranked (early, yes, but still...) number three out of the entire league at his position. And--hell, yes--he is the only Lion that I'd feel comfortable drafting. The dude is a stud. He puts up stud-like numbers (80, 1300, 10); the numbers are made even more impressive by the fact that he played on the worst team, record-wise (0-16), in NFL history.

Here is the thing about the Detroit Lions and their fans: It is a love/hate relationship and, damned near every year in recent history, they have been the Lucy to us Charlie Browns. "Here, Chuck, kick the football. I'll hold it this time." And we Chucks grimace and then shrug and wind up for a booming kick. Lucy Lion always pulls the ball away, just as our collective foot is about to make contact, and we are sent somersaulting through the air. We land hard. The wind is knocked out of us. And Lucy Lion snickers and says, "Okay, that was a joke. This time I'll hold it for you, Chuck." And we gear up--though we know we are fools--for another kick.

Sigh.

The last couple of years, I've not bought in to the pundits', the "experts'," theories about the Detroit Lions. I'm sick of somersaulting. They have to prove it to me. They have to prove that they have turned the proverbial corner. Matt Millen is back in the booth--where he belonged all along--and we have a new coach and coaching staff and they (the Lions' brass) are saying all the right things but, as Morgan Freeman said in "Seven" as he was contemplating opening the box within which Gwen's beautiful golden-haired head held residence, "I don't know...God...I just don't know."

It could be a bomb. Morgan didn 't know, and I don't know, either.

I don't know. I would love to have faith that they'd reach seven wins...but I just don't know. I doubt it, actually. They have made some off-season moves, sure, but how in the hell do you plug seventy million holes on the team in one off-season? Quick answer: You don't.

In his eight- or nine-year tenure, Matt Millen fucked this team up beyond repair. Put that way, Matty is akin to G. W. Bush(fucker). It'll take years to climb out of the mess, the quagmire, the morass. At best, I expect four wins out of this club.

Then again, they are the Lions. I think they get off on being contrarians. You think, expect, them to do one thing and they do the exact opposite. Forgetting last year (0-16), that is all they have ever done: Lose to the teams they should beat and beat the teams to which they should lose. If you are ever stupid enough to bet on a Lions game, bet contrary to your gut. You are guaranteed to win! =o)

Okay. I admit it. I am getting football fever. There should be a pill for that....