The long freezing winter is all but an ice melt away on my battered brow. The sun burns brightly in the eastern sky yet I find myself wanting, I want 70 degrees in the clear blue skies, I want a fall Sunday at Paul Brown Stadium, I want to get up at 6 a.m., beer in hand by 7 a.m. and up at the stadium tailgating with the other hard cores by 8 a.m. I want a bratwurst, I want coolers filled with ice cold beer, I want four tables packed with lunch meat, veggies, pasta salad, cheese, chips, salsa, Mexican bean dip and much, much more, I want to basically fill up on beer, I want to stand in line cross legged for thirty minutes about to burst at a port-o-john and I want to see the steam rise when I take a good pee, I want to piss behind a car door, I want swat teams of cops swarming around in shift like the SS, I want to see Craig and his four kegs of beer survive the weekend, and I want to see how he explains himself the day after, I want to be drunk of my ass with a ?F? Pittsburgh t-shirt on, I want shotgun three beers on the walk to the stadium, I want to see Jennifer answer the question how many quarters in a football game, I want to stand in those cold south stand for four hours with a million ups and downs of joy and agony with every play, I want to make myself hoarse, I want to yell at the referees, I want to do the ass hole chant, I want to eat 6 dollar hot dogs and soft pretzel with cheese, I want to see cups of coke complimented with Captain Morgan fly from all directions, I want to win tickets from the corner office, I want to high five all my friends and every other person around me after the Bengals score, I want to score, I find myself wanting, I find myself wanting so much. ?F? Pittsburgh and bring on your next Super Bowl Champions. The Cincinnati Bengals!!!!
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