A Thanksgiving prayer that I grant you permission to borrow or steal for your holiday table:
As we gather together for turkey, gravy and dressing, we want to thank you, dear Lord, for this abundant blessing.
But, before we stuff our faces and raise glasses of wine we also want to thank our dear Panthers for playing so fine.
They’ve dispensed with Seattle; they’ve fought off Green Bay, feats not many would have predicted in May.
There have been times when we’ve wondered, and times when we’ve doubted, and times when we’ve looked up, seen rappellers and shouted.
Yet, most of the season it’s been one big party – one the Panthers are hosting (thank goodness) sans guys like Greg Hardy.
Through it all, we’ve been grateful for Cam and his scoring, for his uncanny ability to never be boring.
Look, there he goes again, not minding his manners! Look at him, would you? Tearing down those fans’ banners!
We’re kidding, of course, Cam. We like all that passion. We like when you stand up for our team in such fashion.
We like when you celebrate; we like when you dance. We won’t let some Tennessee mom stop us, no chance.
It’s just, we respect her opinion and we do wish her well. But after re-reading that letter, it’s like, “What the h***?”
Was she serious? Was she joking? Was it something she’d been smoking? Did she find what she’d written truly that thought-provoking?
But it’s over now. I’m OK. I’m through with that biz. As Cam said on Thursday, “It is what it is.”
Moving on, let us turn to the matters at hand: our family, our feast and our late-afternoon plan.
That would be watching the Panthers in their first Thanksgiving game – against a Dallas Cowboys team that’s been remarkably lame.
It’s an event the whole family can sit down to enjoy, way less stupid than stalking some cheap Black Thursday toy.
And with that, bless this food. Now let’s eat it in a hurry because we need time for a nap before kickoff (on CBS at 4:30).
When we sleep we’ll dream of a game that is Super, then we’ll wake up and cheer them on through a tryptophan stupor.