So let me see if I understand this. If Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow we have six more weeks of football play-offs? There's a lot of folks today who might not object to that but if the winds pick up across the Meadowlands of New Jersey around East Rutherford and Carlstadt not many in MetLife Stadium will be in that number.
Though, this story makes me wonder how The Gipper might feel now that we've made sure the outdoors of the Northeast USA in February barely bubbles up to be a first world problem. That we have this kind of research to sort out the exact amount of money being wasted by advertisers for a football game, vice funding an initiative here in our country to feed the hungry and house the homeless is so homo sapiencentric it makes me want to try to apologize to all the other life forms on the planet.
We have more people paying attention today to whether or not this relative of a rodent in Pennsylvania sees his shadow than to global warming, which no longer amazes me as much as it once did, sadly.
The members of the tin foil tri-corner hat brigade and it can't be coincidence that so many of them are my country right or wrongers (though they'd be surprised at what it meant before they Rush-Becked it) should be right at home today. Most especially if either Peyton Manning or Richard Sherman sees his shadow.
Suspect they won't be all that keen to insist on their right to bare arms if the cold arrives as advertised but even if it does, Phil already has a coat. And a good guy with a coat, even a ground hog, can stop a guy with a bad rug. American sports is a serious romance especially since today of all days I love you more than football.