We love the NFL, even when it doesn’t love us back
Football is pain. Beautiful, exquisite, pain. For 17 weeks we fall in love all over again, maybe longer if we’re lucky — knowing full well that the season will likely end in heartache. We keep coming back, year after year, even when our team is terrible, because loyalty mandates it. It’s love often unrequited, spurred on by the fleeting hope that even the smallest of chance at glory is impossible to resist.
The majority of us know deep down that 2025 won’t be our year. Even if we don’t want to admit it. The shaky offensive line, the questionable quarterback,
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