Year of the Birds

Now is the winter of our discontent

made glorious by this sun of [Whis...]

and all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house

in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

I have to quote Shakespeare here because none other's words can do justice to the immense joy that swells within me. The Arizona Cardinals are going to the playoffs!

After a lifetime of suffering, sore trials, endless bumbling, prolific losing, and ridicule from fans of every other NFL team out there (even the Bengals have been to the Super Bowl (Twice! What?)), my Arizona Cardinals are going to the playoffs!

This may be one small step for man, but it is one giant leap for Cardinals fans everywhere. I have held season tickets for the past 11 years, despite the fact that I live out of state and only attend the occasional pre-season game or Saturday game every couple of years. I have spent an undisclosed amount of money on Cardinals jerseys, sweatshirts, training shorts, golf shirts, autographed footballs, authentic helmets, and other knick knacks. I have dragged my family on the 7-hour (each way) trip to Flagstaff each August to attend Cardinals Training Camp, where the highlight is seeing the players run around in practice gear at half speed. I once sent an angry letter to Rod Graves, Cardinals VP of Football Operations, asking why in the world the Cardinals were not pursuing free agent WR Marcus Robinson. I've brainwashed my children into believing that a major function of a healthy life is an unwavering devotion to Arizona Cardinals football. I may not be Father of the Year, but if there's an award for consistency in parenting then someone should take note of the speed and reliability with which my sons arrive home from church on Sundays and change into their Cardinals outfits in preparation for watching that week's game.

And it was all done in anticipation of this moment; a day that, at times, I feared might never come.

Our winter of discontent is now made glorious! It is the Year of the Birds!