Invoked at moments in my mundane existence, when getting in touch with an inner Ken Kesey levity would be nice.
Where are those acid flashbacks now that I really need them, the ones our finger-wagging elders warned us about back in the day ? A few kandy-colored tracers wouldn’t be a bad thing now and again, as long as I’m not behind the wheel.
Little do I want, however, a brown acid bummer. Like the only one of mine experienced at a Chicago concert at Memorial Coliseum. Twas a very weird evening.
Anyway, that’s kind of how it felt to this college football analyst (of my own mind) with all this seismic plate-shifting conference rejiggering. Which kicked way up a notch recently, as if Emeril dumped a whole bottle of hot sauce in the roux he was concocting.
What’s coming this year is relatively benign. Four new schools in the Big Whatever.
But next season we got a transcontinental sea change a comin’. (Mixed metaphor used.)
Bicoastal nonsense. Accepting the non-presence of PAC 0.
With more possibly, hopefully not, on the way.
At any rate, to cope I have just completed Part I of a College Sports Realignment Assimilation Conversion Therapy course, presented by the Bear Bryant Institute. Part II is next summer. Continue reading Footballishness: Realignment Therapy