The South is a curious amalgam of fried food and sweet tea, trashy trailer park tragedy, dark gothic tales, hell, fire and brimstone and, of course, the ever-present, all-consuming, life-giving Church of Football.
Oh sure, there’s football in other parts of the country, but does anyone else come close to matching the faithful fanaticism of a Deep South Game Day? The Church of Football has it’s own liturgy–the parking lot fellowship meal, the processional to the house of worship, the gathering of the congregation, colorful vestments and the common chants and cheers. Touchdowns, of course, are the holiest sacrament, and in the ecstasy of celebrating another six points, congregants, if only for a few transcendent moments, forget their troubles and woes and are transported into high, heavenly places.… Read the rest