And that's it.

It's all over. 

Now is the time when we look through sick spring/summer months before another game.  Sure, there will be the draft, very few, compelling stories to sift through.  A Pacman story or two.  But now is the hour of our discontent.  Sunday will once again be an empty shell of a day.  What will we do for the 12+ hours that used to be dedicated to watching football on the holiest of days.  Fantasy points and trash talk.  Loud cheers from a touchdown.  Prayers before the snap for an interception, then bragging that your middle name is "Nostradamus" when it actually happens.  Having to live through six months of the knowledge that an average football team took home the trophy this year.  That's right, I said it.  Average.

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