I remember before the last strike I could not get enough football on TV. It was always get the kids up at 8:30 for Mass so we'd be home for the early game at 10 a.m. Forget trips or having anyone over until after 4 p.m. Monday nights were for watching "Monday Night Football" and griping what an ass Howard Cosell was. Then there were Thursday special games and the occasional Sunday night game. Forget going out. I'd tell my wife, "See you after the Super Bowl."
Then an amazing thing happened. Those clowns actually struck and deprived me of my entertainment. I started sleeping in on Sunday and going to a later Mass. My family loved it. We actually went to breakfast afterward and I discovered my family was growing up.
The hypnotic spell football wove over me in the past is broken, and I refuse to let it get me again. If those jerks want to strike, let them.
PAUL D. DOHERTY