Our national obsession is back for real.
Our great escape.
We missed you, NFL, and here’s why:
It’s Peyton Manning and Tom Brady: The magic and majesty of legendary quarterbacks in the twilight of their Hall of Fame careers and their burning obsession to capture another Super Bowl ring.
It’s the adventures and misadventures of Johnny Football, who may flip more birds than touchdown passes when he unseats Brian Hoyer in Cleveland.
It’s Nick Foles aiming to prove he’s no one-hit wonder in Chip Kelly’s offense.
It’s the hated rivalries: Steelers-Ravens and 49ers-Seahawks and Bears-Packers heading the list.
It’s the point spread, always the point spread.
It’s office pools.
It’s Blezow’s Lock of the Week.
It’s Hondo Unplugged.
It’s the rage we know as fantasy football.
It’s Michael Vick waiting in the wings to save Rex Ryan if Geno Smith falters.
It’s Jerry Jones being Jerry Jones.
It’s Tony Romo being Tony Romo in the clutch.
It’s the forever romance between Green Bay and its Packers — cheeseheads of the world unite!
It’s the endless pursuit of a Super Bowl berth for the Lions, Browns, Texans and Jaguars.
It’s The Hoodie.
It’s Jimmy Graham, the wide receiver masquerading as a tight end.
It’s Darrelle Revis tormenting the Jets, if not Peyton Manning, and pressing to recapture Best Cornerback in Football honors from Richard Sherman and Patrick Peterson.
It’s Pete Carroll acting like a high school senior who just secured a prom date with the Homecoming Queen trying to make the Seahawks the first repeat Super Bowl champions since the 2004 Patriots.
It’s Jim Harbaugh’s enthusiasm unknown to mankind.
It’s Eli Manning trying to master the West Coast offense and Tom Coughlin trying to avoid a third straight season out of the playoffs and the age-old talk that he is not 68 years young.
It’s the relentless campaign to get Daniel Snyder to change the nickname of his team, finally.
It’s Lovie Smith’s return in Tampa, Ken Whisenhunt’s return in Tennessee, Jim Caldwell’s return in Detroit.
It’s Michael Sam, whether he makes it or not.
It’s Mike Pettine (Browns), Bill O’Brien (Texans), Mike Zimmer (Vikings) and Jay Gruden (Washington) trying not to coach like rookies.
It’s Jason Garrett (Cowboys), Joe Philbin (Dolphins), Dennis Allen (Raiders), Mike Smith (Falcons) Ryan (Jets) and, dare we say it, Coughlin (Giants) trying to stay off the hot seat.
It’s paranoia.
It’s marijuana.
It’s Matt Schaub trying to prevent Raiders fans from burning his jersey.
It’s Ryan Fitzpatrick trying to prevent Texans fans from burning HIS jersey.
It’s Andrew Luck playing more like the first overall pick of the draft than ever.
It’s offense, offense and more offense.
It’s J.J. Watt terrorizing anyone and everyone with the ball.
It’s Jadeveon Clowney playing Robin to Watt’s Batman.
It’s the age of the big receiver: Megatron, Demaryius, Dez, Julio, A.J., Alshon, Cordarrelle, Andre, Vincent Jackson, Brandon Marshall, Larry Fitzgerald, Michael Floyd, Justin Hunter, Kelvin Benjamin.
It’s the fourth quarter.
It’s playoff fever in twentysomething cities all the way to the last Sunday or Monday night of the season.
It’s the artistry of Shady McCoy, the All Day violence of Adrian Peterson even in a quarterback-driven league.
It’s always the quarterbacks: Peyton and Tom, and A-Rod and Brees, and Andrew and Andy, and Big Ben and Little Brother Eli, and Matthew and Matty Ice, and Russell and Colin, and Joe and Nick, and Jay and Jake, and
Carson and Alex, and Tony and RGIII, and EJ and Geno, and Philip and Cam and maybe Teddy and Blake and LeBron’s buddy, the name escapes me.
Welcome back, NFL!