FOOTY CALL

FYI, anyone looking for footy news, well Big Brigs is busy writing, but about microbes, protozoa and mitochondria instead of non-American football so he can get his PhD and get his arse out of grad school so he can get back to the workforce. Have no fear, he will be back backing up his call of the Toffees of Everton as his surprise top division Premiership team (3-0-1). It probably has to do with the karma associated with unloading my brother-from-another-mother Marcus Bent (presently riding the pine for 1-3-0 Charlton with my other brother-from-another-mother, Darren Bent starring as top scoring striker). Although my Everton jersey still says BENT on the back, I will not jump from supporting my Toffees (or the Blues if you prefer).

Of course, the highlight of supporting a European footy team is wearing your colors out and about in Boston and having some deranged looney fresh off the boat screaming out the window as you walk by about how Aston Villa is going to kick our *expletive deleted*-ing *expletive deleted* next week. That, is the passion that every American male looks for with their teams. It is how I feel about the Yankees, Jets/Bills/Dolphins (but especially those *expletive deleted* Jets), 76ers (I do not care how long ago 1981 was, I was seven and I still hate Philly)/Lakers/Pistons, Canadians, and, of course, those *expletive deleted* MetroStars.

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