High School, college, or pro, I am as much a pigskin junkie as the next guy. Still, I can't help but agree with SI writer Mike Silver on the frightening omnipresence of the sport and what it means for the future.
The next thing I know, I'll be in a press box somewhere watching Peyton Manning burn the Seahawks' secondary with his 50th touchdown pass of the season and some scribe will be screaming, "This is the greatest thing I've ever seen in my life!" And then Reggie Wayne will run smack-dab into the goal post, early-'70s style, and collapse -- the ultimate celebration gesture and one I humbly helped convince Clinton Portis to do at the Pro Bowl a few years back -- only he won't be joking, he'll be out cold. And the ref will throw a flag, and Holmgren will applaud vigorously from the sidelines, and somewhere on a beach in the Bahamas, watching on his iPod, Tagliabue will be smiling, as he has just pulled into first place in his fantasy league.
For what its worth, I was tossing around my old Pete Rozelle (link for the benefit of the babies out there) football with a buddy during my son's birthday party this weekend, discussing this phenomena precisly while also pondering the latest Redskin gossip.