Caution! Although the word "football" is included in the title of this post, there will not be a discussion of whether Brett Favre needs to retire, what kind of season Peyton Manning is having, who's on the DL, what coach sucks, what player has been traded, who's offensive game is impressive or who's I-formation looks best. Instead I'll discuss how I've never caught the bug for football or any other sport.

When I was young my Mom said that whatever sport was on TV, I would go in my closet and try to find the clothes that matched that sport. If basketball was on I had a tank top shirt with sailboats on it that I would put on with some shorts. If football was on I put on a toy motorcycle helmet and held a plastic football. My dad and grandad played golf and my Mom said she could hardly get me dressed because I was constantly running to play with my sawed-off golf club, and we have a slide of me practicing my putt in the nude.

Though I was fascinated by all this activity on the TV screen, I never understood the games at all. This must be why I foolishly begged to sign up for Little League football when I was in second grade. Mom was against it, but dad thought it was a great idea.

It was a rude awakening when I discovered that football didn't just entail dressing up in a cool jersey and helmet, but also having the wind knocked out of you 20 times an evening, and this was just during practices. I was an extremely skinny kid and shorter than a lot of people at this point in life, particularly the guys who were trampling me like a blade of grass.

I particularly recall when the coach told us to line up for a scrimmage, and some kid said, "Let me get this junk off of me!" He had thrown up what looked like French Toast all over his uniform and was picking the bits of bread off, still eager to get back to the game. I might have thrown up myself but I was still hyperventilating from running laps around the field in the scorching summer sun.

My football career lasted all of two weeks and one pre-season game where I mostly held the bench down. My parents were pretty pissed about losing the money on my enrollment, uniform and cleats. Around this same time my older cousin introduced me to KISS, thank God, and my interests went in a severely different direction, although shoulder pads and codpieces were still involved.

I was tuned out of sports after that, until fourth grade, when a flier to play basketball got my attention. My parents signed me up, and I actually played basketball for two years. It took me the whole season to get warmed up, but I got pretty good at it, partly because now I was one of the taller kids, and also the fastest dribbler. I even came within one foul of being thrown out of a game once, I played so aggressively, which was out of character for me. Now when people start talking sports I mention this experience as a bridge, but when they start talking jump shot-jumper-layaway-forward-blah-blah I realize I played basketball without knowing much about it except to wave your arms and aim for the hoop.

High school is supposed to be when sports celebrity is at an all-time high, but my school's team were always also-rans, so no one cared much. I remember Scott saying that the Friday night football games were for "rednecks who don't have good color TV's to watch." In a contest between the North Cobb Warriors and Miami Vice, we chose Miami Vice.

Then the Braves made the NLC and World Series a few years, and I would watch. Hours and hours gone by, only to watch them crash and burn. Were people seriously spending three or four hours at a time watching 120 games a year of this, and then more time memorizing stats? Good God! Wake me when they're actually world champions.

In adulthood, though, I'm finding sports, particularly football and baseball, are the glue that holds society together. Anytime two people with penises get together they're going to start discussing the DL, coach so-and-so's judgment, the offensive line, etc. And now I'm finding even women have oceans of interest in this nonsense.

The peak of this being last night when the teams going to the Super Bowl were decided. Now I must know what it feels like to be a Jew at Christmas, because football seems to be bigger than Christmas and the Fourth of July put together. All over my Facebook and Twitter people were saying, "Who dat! Who dat!," whatever the fuck that means, and I had next to zero idea what was going on. I pride myself on being against the grain and a non-crowd-joiner, but you really start feeling foolish when everyone else is talking about Santa Claus and putting up their tree and you're just standing there with your hands in your pockets.

In times of trouble I reflect on the words of one of my great heroes, Led Zeppelin's John Bonham, who on the Earl's Court DVD steps to the mic and says, "I think football is a load of bollocks!" Thank you, John!