Behold, The Autumn Sports Equinox !

Rejoice, brothers and sisters !

Strip naked, race outside, raise your hands to the heavens, and let out a mighty roar, for it has arrived in all it's glory.

Yes, I am speaking of the greatest of all days on the calender, more splendiferous than Thanksgiving, more glorious than Christmas, greater than Arbor Day, and more heartfelt than Festivus.

Of course I am speaking of the Autumn Sports Equinox, the most exalted of Holy Days, a confluence of circumstance that humbles the soul and lifts the spirits.

With the opening of the NBA season tonight, the final piece will be in place, and all will be right with the world.

For your consideration, if you please.

The World Series
The NFL
NCAA Football
The NHL
The NBA
NASCAR
PGA

There you have it, a cornucopia of couch inspired sports activities for every taste, an iron clad alibi to shield you from even the most significant of household tasks.

So please, when you enter your humble abode this evening, take time to reflect.

Hug your refrigerator, and whisper sweet nothings into the cold cuts drawer while gently stroking the ice maker.

Bathe your Barcalounger in Armor All, and generously apply a fresh layer of duct tape to the weathered arms that have served you so well.

Cradle your remote as if it was your first born, and replace the batteries, softly kissing the new soldiers and whispering words of encouragement as you send them off to engage their noble purpose.

Dispatch your significant other to the hinterlands to forage for a bounty of comfort foods and adult beverages of a carbonated nature, thus assuring that your next foray to the bathroom will be a masculine one.

Banish the offspring outside, careful to instruct them in the proper tact to employ when redistributing the leaves onto the neighbor's property.

Now you are ready to crack open a cold one, take a mighty swallow, let loose a prodigious belch, and plant your ample posterior into your favorite chair, oblivious to everything the outside world may offer except for that bag of pork rind that beckons to be deflowered.

It's good to be the King, my friend.