Doesn't this picture remind you of walking up to the bar on that crisp Fall Sunday morning ready to devour beers, wings, steaktidbit sandwhiches or whatever you sweet little heart desires? It does for me. I get a semi-chub (or should I say small tuna?) as I enter and get ready to grab my first free budlight of the day with my Jet's jersey on. I walk in to see that I have been beat there usually by the Feifdaddy and Tuna or any of you clowns that love our holy grail as much as I do. This is the ultimate sundayfunday...the ultimate mancave. Football on 5 different Tvs. As these sundays are so sacred there are some obvious unsaid rules. First and foremost...no girls allowed and no randoms unless previously okay-ed by the McCann's committee. Second...be ready to drink some beertowers...unless you gotta drive. Third....actually this is really just directed at Feifer....do not I repeat do not say your team is going to blow the game...show some confidence or you are really just a terrible fan. Guys we had an amazing year last year and I don't expect that to change. You must be willing to sacrifice your Saturday nights out to hang out with girlfriends so that you will be good to go for McCann's Sundays. You must be willing to make all possible sacrifices to make it there. Driving through any type of weather (snowday last year was classic). All I gotta say is CANT WAIT.
No comments:
Post a Comment