Hating February

I hate February.
It’s a silly month, it’s spelled funny and it’s a month in which it’s usually too cold to snow.
How can you respect a month that can’t even nail down how many days it wants to have on the calendar? Is it 28? Is it 29? Who comes up with this stuff?
And any month that holds Valentine’s Day over our heads deserves our scorn.
Other than the Super Bowl every other year and high school hoops, what does this month offer us as sports fans. The Pro Bowl? Tom Brady didn’t get voted in by the fans and players, and even if he had gotten the nod, he would have blown it off to play golf this weekend at Pebble Beach.
College basketball? Hey, it’s one of my favorite sports. But the reality is that most of the 330-plus Division I teams at this point in the season are just treading water until March gets here.
Sure, a few teams are gunning for conference titles and trying to improve their spot on the all-important bubble. But for every North Carolina and Duke, there are a dozen teams like Davidson and Campbell – teams waiting for March and the chance of winning a conference tournament to get into “The Big Dance.”
The NBA? You’re kidding right? Regular season games mean nothing – all 82 of them – and nobody picks the intensity up to the level a discriminating sports fan requires until the postseason starts. Call me when that happens.
“But the NBA All-Star Game is in Vegas this year,” you might say. And I’d be excited about it, if I were going on someone else’s dime and the Maloof brothers hooked me up with a bankroll at their casino.
Yeah, there’s hockey. But really, can’t you pretty much put that in the same boat with the NBA. The postseason can be fun, but getting there takes endurance I don’t have this type of year.
About the best thing I can say about February is that it’s in between two of the better sports months of the year in January and March.
January has the bowl games, NFL Playoffs, the Australian Open and college hoops. March has a bunch of conference tournaments and the “Madness.”
February is a place holder, something to do between decent sporting events. I have, however, found a way to give this tiny little month some significance.
I had a son. Ethan’s birthday is Sunday, and it’s a reason to celebrate.
And the humor here is that the fact that his birthday is in this month is no coincidence. His birth was carefully planned by his mother and I to add life to an otherwise bleak month.
And it worked too.
But after the boy turns five, can we just skip ahead to March.
Come on, would anybody really notice?