Nicholas with his good friend, Hiedi, from the State of Iowa
My son, Nicholas III (30) is a sports nut. Just how this came to be I suspect is from the aquifers supplying the drinking water to the people of Iowa where he went to the University of Iowa. It can be the only explanation, genetics having been denied.
No month is nuttier than March (They don't call it March Madness for nuttin). You name it, March is the closest time a sports nut can get to nirvana, and the sports bar is the temple where a sports nut can slake his/her taste for unadulterated bliss.
In a sports bar I sit with my son, surrounded by seemingly hundreds of huge TV screens projecting every kind of worldwide sport from seemingly hundreds of sports networks amongst clustered groups a fans yelling at images. Passions run high as if each game, each play, might change the face of mankind.
After all it is NCAA basketball tournament time, my Michigan State Spartans just won, and little time to bond with my son. So what if I am wearing my Michigan State T-shirt, hat, and underwear. I am smug, confident that I am not one of THOSE.