By Alan B. Combs

It is a sad time of the year for me. The weather is cold and the NFL season is winding down. In the meantime, I will deliver up all the football jock talk that I can, as often as I can, detailing the many virtues of those teams that are still in the playoff, and explaining to anyone that will listen the faults of those teams that have earned their early vacations. I tend to think of it as a ministry of education I am able to offer to the unwashed, uneducated masses. Others might not agree.

I met a person the other night for whom my benevolence was wasted.

I told him about the Raiders and how the loses of the last few games might have helped them focus on their drive to the Superbowl, except for a certain snowstorm. This fellow insisted on telling me how the Mighty Ducks have created a successful franchise in a land where there is never winter.

I decried the Dallas Cowboys, a proud franchise brought to its knees by free agency and a greedy owner. He peristed in telling me, as if I should care, how the Detroit Red Wings may lose Sergei Fedorov as this center becomes a free agent, and how this may affect their future.

I expounded on how the Bears had a better year than they have had for over a decade. He brushed it off by describing how the Blackhawks have had their best start in over a decade.

Nothing I said seemed to make any difference. He would not listen about my beloved NFL. I could only conclude that he was nothing but a hockey putz.