I haven't had a drink since Saturday. I don't plan on taking another one until Saturday, September 5th. That day, my friends, is kickoff. The long drought is almost over, and the rainy season of college football will be once again upon us. I figured it would be good to detox for a few weeks, in anticipation of another season of disappointments and heavy drinking.
Long have I gazed into the spheres, trying to divine the shape of the season. Will Cal finally have its long awaited break out season and Rose Bowl run? Will USC finally show a chink in the armor? Will Florida run the tables and show the world why Urban Meyer is the best of the best? Will Notre Dame finally return to glory? Can Bob Stoops break the "Chokelahoma" mantra?
These answer I cannot give. Clouded, the future is. It was clouded last season, and I could not foretell the answers. This year, even murkier the waters have become.
I still haven't decided what I'll drink for game day kickoff. I am thinking I'll give Canadian whisky another go, and this time maybe go crazy and spend more than ten dollars. Ian Fleming drank Tangle Ridge. Shall I give that a go?
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