It never occured to me, even in the remotest possibility, that a more entertaining form of football than either college football, or the NFL, existed until my grandsons, Izaiah and Aiden, began suiting up and playing "grid-kid football."
There are no television cameras, no blisteringly beautiful cheerleaders, no cold and frothy beers, no charcoal embers or the smell of grilled hamburgers wafting over the field from the tail-gates parallel parked along the busy street, no concern regarding scouts hiding in lawn chairs along side the field: just pure go get'em, crackmouth, football.
Occasionally there is the missed tackle, the dropped pass, and someone jumps "off-sides" on almost every play, and the holding - oh my gosh, the holding - but these minor distractions fall by the wayside when football purity such as this is on display.
Today we lost our game; but just wait until next Saturday when the mighty Eagles take the field again. Mayhem, total mayhem, like that the befalls the enemies of mighty warriors on bloodied fields of battle will prevail.