Georgia on My Mind

Last Sunday, my husband confided in me, after a long period of silence, "I've been doing some number crunching in my head, and a lot of things have to happen just right, but I think I've got it figured out. Georgia still has a chance to play for the NCAA National Championship." I nodded and smiled at him, like I was taught to do in my Abnormal Psychology class at the University of Georgia.

Last Saturday the Dawgs beat Troy State, and, more importantly, the Saturday prior to that, they whooped up on Florida. The residual euphoria still coursed through his veins, reintroducing the season of optimism, temporary, but welcome all the same. And as of yesterday's blackout in Athens, I believe we might well ride the tide of sagunity all the way through December.

Which leaves me wondering, as I enjoy the fringe benefits of my husband getting wrapped up in delusional happiness and excitement (forget the convoluted reasoning behind it), why so many women don't embrace football and all the black magic that comes with it.