It's A Papacy, So We Wait
It's just a game, but at the same time it's not. I think it would blow people's minds the number of moving parts involved in making sure a stadium is ready to go for 70,000 people to walk in, sit down, and watch a sporting event for three hours. But last Saturday, I worked the day job for nine hours, holding the baton (in my case, my trusty tactical spork) and dealing with the symphony of gameday chaos. It went better than week one, as it always did, but there was an extra fillup of crazy in the air because it was Iowa State and that's just how the world works. But after my shift, I drove home, grabbed a burger, poured myself a generous measure of single malt whiskey, and wandered down to my firepit where the Missus was waiting for me. The kids eventually joined us, and Smores were made. We listened to music, looked at the stars and it was just perfect. The tension of the day bled out of me and I realized that it was just a game. I walked away from downtown and drove do