For one week out of every year, somewhere between week four and ten of the NFL season, I find myself wallowing in sorrow and despair.  It never fails.

I always spend countless weeks perfecting the art of the game day ritual, scrutinizing over the piece of clothing to be anointed as this year’s lucky relic, fixating over the preparation and timing of the refreshments, organizing the day’s responsibilities around the exact moment of kick off, meticulously managing the people with whom I watch the game, so as not to pollute the viewing experience.

I think you get the idea.  It’s a painstaking and delicate process.

And every year, just when it seems like I have discovered the perfect balance, established the ultimate game day experience. Bam. The collectively dreaded bye week.

And thus, the arrival of sorrow and despair.

It blindsides me. I can never quite prepare myself for the magnitude of the impact, and every year the pain intensifies like the days immediately following a difficult break-up.

This year is particularly grueling as my beloved Broncos are riding the momentum of a six-game winning streak, and yours truly has flawlessly orchestrated and executed his game-day rituals like a puppeteer imbuing life into an inanimate object.  

What will happen now? Will the Broncos be able to sustain their momentum through this off week?  Will the defense become too tranquil and lose the edge that has defined them to this point?  Will Orton revert to his disastrous preseason form? Will I be able to recreate the magic of last week’s barfly ceremonial brilliance?

I’m really starting to worry now.

Every year, I question to myself, and to those close to me, just why the bye week actually exists. And no one ever has an answer that satisfies my inquisitive nature.

So this year, I will begin to question out loud, to anyone who is interested and will listen. To anyone willing to offer me their opinion. Why the hell do we need a bye week in the NFL?

To extend the NFL week to 17 weeks?  My answer… Cut the preseason down to three games then, and utilize what is now the final week of the preseason to host the opening week of the regular season.

To give the players a well-deserved week to rest and recover?  My answer…What? Are they in high school? Do they need to catch up on their homework? Do they need to put ice on their boo boos? Aren’t we , the NFL fans, paying their salaries, and shouldn’t we be rewarded for our loyalty and contribution?

Whatever the reasoning, I can tell you right now the benefits won’t come close to outweighing the agony I will experience tomorrow.

Maybe I’m just being selfish, but I’m not sure I can handle the depraved monotony of another Broncoless week.

Last week was bad enough when I had to wait until Monday night to watch my Broncos.  Not that Monday Night Football doesn’t have its own magic and mystique, but we all know it’s not the same as a Sunday spent in the trenches.

Now I have to figure out a way to distract my guttural urges from surfacing.  Do I finally get around to hanging up those two paintings sitting on the living room floor that I’ve been putting off for months?

Do I cave in and replace that toilet seat in the guest bathroom that has been needing my attention for weeks?  Do I watch that inevitably awful movie I’ve been promising my wife I’d watch with her?

Oh, cruel NFL, why must you make me stoop to such lows?  Please. I beg you. Please get rid of the excruciating bye week.

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