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Fans pay serious money and deal with the routine indignities of overbearing stadium security to go to NFL games because they love football. But who is it, exactly, that has made NFL games the way they are, and ensured that the experience is dominated by gargantuan, electricity-chugging HD screens? You already know.

For Mets fans, and a great many others, baseball is a waiting game at this point of the season. Not just for next season, but for an opportunity to feel That Baseball Feeling again.

In which our prognosticator gets very nervous about the Seahawks and willingly enters a blacked-out Jets bar. Also the Jaguars play the Raiders this week, and there's the pageantry of the Jeff Fisher versus Mike Smith Stepdad Bowl.

After another U.S. Open in which U.S. men were barely a factor, stateside tennis fans ask a familiar question: where are the great American men's tennis players? The answer remains, 'in the increasingly distant past, mostly.'

While there's still time left in the season, and before the discourse gets too loud, why not escape into the consequence-free embrace of minor league baseball?

With the start of another NFL season, fans have another opportunity to remember and forget what we need to remember and forget to enjoy Roger Goodell's game. We'll do it while we watch, of course.

There's a song to be written about this whole Suarez-to-Arsenal-then-not-and-now-they-have-Mesut Özil thing. Something about not always getting what you want, but that if you tries sometimes, you just might find you get what you need. For now, though, all Arsenal fans can hear is the sound of "öööööööömmm …" in their ears.

As of Thursday night, the NFL is back, for better and worse and the Jaguars-ianly meh. So we might as well take a stab at predicting the week's outcomes, then?

Plenty of people play FIFA Soccer on various video game systems, drunk or sober but mostly alone. Playing it in a bar, after a few drinks, makes for a very different game.

The era of the broadcast made-for-TV movie event is probably over. But if it ended with Holly Hunter beating Ron Silver in straight sets in When Billie Beat Bobby, a not-quite-noble genre at least went out in style.