Tuesday, September 06, 2011


Last night, I sat down with Eli 10.1 to watch part of the Maryland-Miami game.

When we turned on the television, this was the first thing we saw:

My goodness--isn't he late for an appointment to entertain at the King's court?

I think that qualifies as the worst college football uniform I've ever seen. At least it did until I saw the rest of it:

That's the SAME TEAM'S JERSEY on the other side. Half harlequin, half red and white.

And in that moment, the world officially ran out of ideas for new jerseys.

"What IS that?" I asked.

"Dad, it's a cross--don't you see it?"

"I think I might see a 'T'," I said.

"It's a cross," Gloria said.

"Wait--I think I see Abraham Lincoln's profile," I said.

How did these jerseys get approved? Did all the grown-ups leave the room at the same time?

"I really think they missed an opportunity here," I said. "If they put an animal mascot over one ear hole, and a different animal mascot over the other ear hole, they could combine them into a terrifying hybrid creature on TOP of the helmet."

"That would be wicked!" Eli 10.1 said. Helmet manufacturers, take note.

Later in the game, something happened that I always love: a huge defensive lineman picked up a fumble and started heading for the end zone. "RUN, BIG MAN, RUN!" I shouted. Eli always loses it when I say that--I think my enthusiasm sends him up, but he always starts laughing and then can't stop.

There's something about seeing those big men run, though, that's straight out of a Warner Bros. cartoon. Their big bellies are always out in front, and it always looks like they're about to explode. The effort is so extreme that every 10 yards, some piece of equipment should blast off them. A shoe at the 40, thigh pads at the 30, the helmet at the 20.

I keep expecting it to happen someday, and the way jerseys are headed, exploding equipment is clearly not impossible.

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