It starts with a high five. Then two backward fives. Hip check—woo!—lean back, snap. Twin sprays of blond are tossed over shoulders, red-stained lips part in cheers, and the not-so-secret handshake is complete. Touchdown! You are watching the NFL.
In most years, the aesthetic beats of a football season are consistent and predictable. The mood board has its Terrible Towels waving in Pittsburgh, bare-chested fans braving frigid temperatures in Green Bay or Buffalo, pregame flyovers, and spilled beer. Frustration is a coach who’s spiking a tablet; triumph is a roaring crowd or a touchdown spike; anticipation is a parade of players as they step off the team bus in their Thom Browne, their Gucci, or their North Face; and disappointment is a tearful ride on the medical cart or a face hidden under a Gatorade towel on the sideline.
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