Chicken hoops
by John Valentine
It was all so exciting, many teams to root for, many "six degrees of allegiances." Underdogs, colleges with names like our kids, universities near relative's homes, teams we wanted a second chance at.
After each game, hoarse from screaming at the television, we would pack up the snacks with paper clips, toss the leftovers in the pantry for the next big game the next weekend. We hoped it would never end.
Well, it's over.
We're having a hard time turning in our so-called picks to the various pools.
There are no more big games. No more runs to the grocery store for that special game-day bag of chips.
So with a bit of ceremony this morning I took all of our taped-together, stale, but memory-full bags of Tostitos, Doritos and Red Hot Blues to the chicken coop.
The chickens are huge fans ... of anything edible. They did the wave and rushed the court, cheering, for the salty rain of Natural Yellow Corn Chips, Scoops, Spicy Tortilla Chips and Ranchero Restaurant Style.
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