Now, it's certainly not here yet, but as I walked out to my car this morning to go to work, I could feel it coming in the air. Kind of like a Phil Collins song. Cue the huge drum fill. Anyway, when Fall comes I always feel better, but somehow I always feel sadder. It's like the Death Cab lyric, "Sorrow drips into your heart through a pin hole, and like a faucet that leaks there is comfort in the sound." Something about Autumn is melancholy, but in a comforting way.
Another reason I'm pumped about Fall is Alabama Football! Finally we've cracked the top 25 in the pre-season polls (at number 24 - take nothing for granted...)! I'm excited to take Ellen to see some more games this year, and I'm hoping we continue to improve. Mark my words: in 2 years, watch out. We're coming to get you.
Anyway, one of my favorite poets is James Wright, and I figured I would post one of his poems here. It just so happens to be about Fall and football season.
"Autumn Begins in Martin's Ferry, Ohio"
In the Shreve High football stadium, I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville, And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood, And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel, Dreaming of heroes. All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home. Their women cluck like starved pullets, Dying for love. Therefore, Their sons grow suicidally beautiful At the beginning of October, And gallop terribly against each other's bodies. Happy almost-Autumn everybody. -matt