Thanksgiving Day football brought us the Detroit Lions going wild on the Green Bay Packers. It brought us the Dallas Cowboys somehow surviving the Oakland Raiders.
I didn't watch a second of it. I didn't care.
Instead, I ate a bunch of turkey and drank a little egg nog. I watched all the basketball I could stand, and I played scrabble with my two daughters with the advantage of having the vocabulary of a journalist.
I'm no hater. I love football. But I'm also a Washington football fan, and their performance has left me numb, with little motivation.
So instead of watching the Cowboys win a game the worst thing ever for a Washington fan I watched the Old Spice Classic, good old college basketball. I marveled at Butler's offense. I took in Arizona State and Creighton, and thought about how Larry Krystkowiak and Utah would match up against ASU's quicksilver point guard Jahii Carson.
I guess I have the plight of every fan whose team is out of it three quarters into the season. Washington has no hope for the rest of the season. The team is 3-7. The defense is horrible. Mike Shanahan needs to go. RGIII is a mess. I can't even type Washington's nickname in this space because it's so offensive.
In short, is it basketball season yet?
So why expose myself to the heartache? Why watch the Cowboys make moves toward the postseason at the expense of one of the worst teams in the NFL?
Why watch the Lions when my team couldn't even beat them at home in the third game of the season?
Basketball sounded so much better, so much more palatable. And I was happy, and in a good mood. My family and friends appreciated my humor, not the normal brooding me when my football team inevitably fails from week to week.
And that's what Thanksgiving meant to me this year. Good family. Good friends. And good basketball.
You guys can have the NFL.