Seasons

I am not a football fan. I haven't been to a real game in years. The only reason I would be remotely interested in entering a football stadium would be to watch the halftime show.

That Spouse o' Mine does not enjoy my sitting in on his weekend football television viewing. I can't sit through a whole game on TV, and it is his opinion that I ask too many questions. And make grimacing faces and groaning sound effects. I pop in to check out a score if my orange alma mater Cowboys are playing, but that's about it.

This week, our local K-State Wildcats began their basketball season. I keep abreast of the collegiate basketball scene, although a big fan, I am not. But I can carry on a basketball conversation and it usually makes sense.

This afternoon, I was sitting and reading next to that Spouse o' Mine. He was watching TV. I heard the voice on the TV mention K-State, and I looked up: it was a football game. How could that be, I wondered? K-State started basketball this week. I asked that Spouse o' Mine, "How can that be? Basketball season started this week." He looked at me in disbelief. As if I were balancing rutabagas on my head. "Trish. It's still football season." "Really? How can that be?" Again, that look of disbelief.

How is it that all these years I thought the sports world was a neat and tidy, start-and-finish, ebb and flow, calendar-observant phenomenon?

Well.
I went back to my book.