I'm bored with football. This might have something to do with the lackluster season the Seahawks are having and some weird coaching decisions they've made (trading Housh?! those challenges two weeks ago?!). It also might have something to do with my moodiness, which has coincided pretty distinctly with the football season. (Blame it on football? Sure, why not.)
Frank is not bored with football at all. He, um, encourages the players and coaches through the television screen and likes to spend most of Sunday with the NFL. Days when we get to watch the Saints and the Seahawks are especially good days.
Even he is quite content to do the watching from the livingroom rather than from the stadium. We've got our tickets to all of the Hawks' home games up for sale on the NFL Ticket Exchange. We're leaving it to Fate: if the tickets to a particular game don't sell, we'll go down to Qwest Field and shell out $20 for parking and cheer and listen to Blue Thunder and eat stadium food. So far, we haven't had the opportunity; our tickets have been selling nicely—we've made back almost half the cost of the season.
Play of the game: The arrival of a "Your Tickets Sold" email in my Inbox.
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