Sheesh, there’s nothing to do without weekend football

A nightmare of epic proportions took place at the Gisclair household this past Saturday afternoon.

It was a day of despair – a true tale of horror. It was a scene that I wouldn’t wish on anyone in the world – not even my most vaunted enemy.

Everything started all right.

I woke up, got dressed and enjoyed a relaxing breakfast. From there, I brushed my teeth, plopped on my shoes and made a quick trip to the grocery store to buy chips and beer.

It was the usual Saturday routine for this 26-year-old man. It was the same agenda that I’ve followed for months. It’s a winning formula for me. If it isn’t broke, then don’t fix it, right? At least, that’s what I’ve always been told.

But as the cashier swiped my card and I headed out of the store and back into my car, things started to turn sour on this day. This is where the scary movie begins.

My drive home was fine – I made it back to my home as safe as a button.

But as I hunkered into my preferred chair within the comforts of my living room, the reality sunk in: football is gone, and it’s never, ever coming back!

OK, pardon my dramatic overtones. Barring nuclear chaos, alien invasion or zombie apocalypse (all of which are entirely possible), of course there will be football again next fall. But that’s like six months away.

That’s 20-something consecutive weekends without pigskin. That’s 20-straight Saturdays without Les Miles and his goofy improperly sized cap. That’s 960-straight weekend hours without a touchdown pass, a pancake block or a discussion about concussions.

That’s a life without fantasy football. And let me tell you, my friends, I’m not sure that a life without fantasy football is a life worth living.

For the second time in this column, I again ask the reader to pardon my flare for exaggeration.

Of course, the above soliloquy should be taken lightly – it’s not written with serious, nor literal intentions.

But it truly is fascinating how much sports-loving souls like myself miss pigskin action in the first few weekends that it’s taken away.

During the fall, it’s a free personal assistant. The sport manages our time and days for us. It also usually has a strong bearing on the foods that we eat and the beverages we consume. And the sport is a party planner, as well. Through LSU football, Saints football and all of our other local teams, we’re able to visit old pals, make new pals and spend quality time with family.

Away from the sentimental side of things, it’s just so dog gone easy, too.

The reason why Americans love football season so much is because of the time commitment involved in the job – or lack thereof.

Rooting for a football team is a low maintenance job. Unlike basketball, baseball, hockey and soccer, teams play just one game a week. Nine times out of 10, that one game is played during the weekend – a time when the average American is off from work.

The games are usually played at TV-friendly hours and are broadcast live throughout the country on networks that we own in HD.

It’s just so easy.

And easy is golden in America, which is by far the laziest country in the world.

Sure, the biggest geeks (like myself) do get obsessive and make the sport a 24/7 job. We spend Monday-Friday talking about matchups, picking the upcoming weekend’s games and combing our fantasy football teams with a fine tooth comb so that we will obtain dominance.

But the average fan is perfectly OK with only showing up on Sunday for the game.

And there’s nothing at all wrong with that.

So with the sport gone, myself and millions of others are left scrambling for fulfillment throughout the rest of the spring.

I love basketball – it’s probably my favorite sport in the world.

But until the NBA playoffs get here, the action isn’t really ripe. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the Miami Heat and Indiana Pacers will play in the Eastern Conference Finals this year – that’s already decided.

The Western Conference Playoffs will be amazing, but I’m admittedly downplaying how fun those games will be because I’m becoming increasingly nervous that my beloved Houston Rockets will make an early exit. If true, that’s a yolk that will stay in my face for a long, long time within my place of employment.

College basketball is pretty good – it’s better than it’s been in years. But it’s hard to rally around teams that have close to 50 percent turnover every, single season.

Of course, in a couple of months, baseball will also be here – another sport that I enjoy and hold dear to my heart.

But the MLB season has close to 6,000 games (another exaggeration, though not by much). It’s hard to really rally any raw emotion around a sport when there is a game every, single day. It’s hard to convince yourself that any one game is more important than the other.

It’s a grind. I love my Atlanta Braves dearly. But it’s just tough to convince myself to watch them play the San Diego Padres on a random Wednesday night in May.

No matter how it’s sliced, there’s just no substitute for football.

The Winter Olympics and World Cup will be fun in 2014, but it’s just not the same.

There is only one football.

OK, there’s actually two. Soccer is the original futbol.

But there’s only one football in the hearts of Americans.

Gosh, these next six months will be hard.

Can’t we fast forward to late-August, already?

I don’t think I can take too many more weekends like this.