The most wonderful time of the year.
Yes. Technically, the beginning of the autumnal season, with it's waning heat, shorter days, crisp, cool nights, and natural beauty does not start for another...15 days. But considering I start looking forward to fall as soon as the heat of summer hits, a post on autumn and all its coming glory is long overdue.
Fall is that one season where, when I close my eyes, I can smell it. I can hear it. I can feel it. I smell leaves. Bonfires. I hear the crunch of football pads on the field. Of fallen leaves under foot. I feel the crisp air on my cheeks. The feel of a hot latte in my hands. Memories of fall training days come back with the sound and smell of fallen leaves. I still remember playing soccer games in frigid rain, sliding in the icy mud, trying to keep my muscles warm. I never remember who won the game, but I remember quite clearly the after-school soccer practices where runs were taken on a bed of fallen leaves. As a kid, I waited to see how long I could make it without a coat. As an adult, I can't wait for days of jeans, boots, and long sleeved shirts. Oh--and puffy vests. Give me a latte, jeans, puffy vest and football, and you've got a happy camper. Bonfire after the game? Why yes, because I'm in my puffy vest.
Which brings me to fall's greatest highlight. No, not puffy vests--football. Football and fall are so entwined in my memory that it is hard to separate one from the other. I'm not sure what I loved first. But they exist together in my mind, the most amenable of symbiotic relationships. You can't have one without the other. It wouldn't be fall unless there were high school games Friday night, college games all day Saturday, and NFL on Sunday. I cut my teeth in my tiny town where my friend's brother played and I had my first football crush. When we moved, I learned football is akin to religion in the South; and when we moved again I had my very own team to cheer for. I even tried out to be a cheerleader to be closer to the field. (This grand plan backfired when I made the squad and discovered you can't see anything at the field level.) I cried when I picked a college that didn't have a football team, and later broke a finger playing the game. I used to tape games I'd miss, and threaten people with bodily harm if they slipped any game details. I loved SEC football before the conference took over the world, and for the first half of my young life, I was a long-suffering Steelers' fan surrounded by an army of Eagles' lovers. My 11th grade/junior project was done on college football rivalries and it was the most fun I had writing a paper until college. I speak football. I think pink jerseys are an abomination. And I think rearranging your schedule for a game is no big deal.
Oh--and hockey's right around the corner.
Are you ready? Don't miss it. It's the most wonderful time of the year!
Fall is that one season where, when I close my eyes, I can smell it. I can hear it. I can feel it. I smell leaves. Bonfires. I hear the crunch of football pads on the field. Of fallen leaves under foot. I feel the crisp air on my cheeks. The feel of a hot latte in my hands. Memories of fall training days come back with the sound and smell of fallen leaves. I still remember playing soccer games in frigid rain, sliding in the icy mud, trying to keep my muscles warm. I never remember who won the game, but I remember quite clearly the after-school soccer practices where runs were taken on a bed of fallen leaves. As a kid, I waited to see how long I could make it without a coat. As an adult, I can't wait for days of jeans, boots, and long sleeved shirts. Oh--and puffy vests. Give me a latte, jeans, puffy vest and football, and you've got a happy camper. Bonfire after the game? Why yes, because I'm in my puffy vest.
Which brings me to fall's greatest highlight. No, not puffy vests--football. Football and fall are so entwined in my memory that it is hard to separate one from the other. I'm not sure what I loved first. But they exist together in my mind, the most amenable of symbiotic relationships. You can't have one without the other. It wouldn't be fall unless there were high school games Friday night, college games all day Saturday, and NFL on Sunday. I cut my teeth in my tiny town where my friend's brother played and I had my first football crush. When we moved, I learned football is akin to religion in the South; and when we moved again I had my very own team to cheer for. I even tried out to be a cheerleader to be closer to the field. (This grand plan backfired when I made the squad and discovered you can't see anything at the field level.) I cried when I picked a college that didn't have a football team, and later broke a finger playing the game. I used to tape games I'd miss, and threaten people with bodily harm if they slipped any game details. I loved SEC football before the conference took over the world, and for the first half of my young life, I was a long-suffering Steelers' fan surrounded by an army of Eagles' lovers. My 11th grade/junior project was done on college football rivalries and it was the most fun I had writing a paper until college. I speak football. I think pink jerseys are an abomination. And I think rearranging your schedule for a game is no big deal.
Oh--and hockey's right around the corner.
Are you ready? Don't miss it. It's the most wonderful time of the year!
Comments
Post a Comment