I don’t know whether to root for the Bears or the Colts. It pretty much comes down to Manning vs. Urlacher + Hester for me. Urlacher and Hester is two. Manning is one. Perhaps I know who I am rooting for.

We had trained to be astronauts. But we ended up here. This place: desert, it seems to mock us with its expanse. As though it too could go on forever, and if we could traverse its distance we might unlock some piece of ourselves. In flight school, we welcomed the challenges of nothing, of nothingness. Here, we are reminded daily of our insignificance. We might burn a drum of oil one night, in hopes that someone might swoop down from the heavens, having noticed us, and carry us to a precipice. We might, some other night, build the most magnificent of sand castles, and live in them until the next stiff winds. Or perhaps we will grow larger, we ourselves, and walk in one footstep from one edge of the desert to another– if the desert has edge or end at all. We’ll all need bigger uniforms.