Well, another week has passed, and with it, another Jacksonville Jaguars victory game. (Higher score.)
Tedium grows. Life’s sizzle recedes. Life’s flavor is moderated. Shall this be our fate? Win after win after win, and endless procession of sameness, a Groundhog Day-esque slowly dawning nightmare in which we are forced to confront a new reality in which variety—the spice of life—is absent? Shall Jacksonville become a land of no spice? A southern version of Boston, subsisting on plain boiled potatoes, movies celebrating our provincial ethnic bigotry, and football wins? Are we destined for a future in which Blake Bortles marries a supermodel, world class universities spring up along the banks of the St. Johns River, and our accent becomes a sound more grating and displeasurable than forcing a live ferret into a blender?
I don’t own the “crystal ball” full of answers that you seek. This isn’t The Crystal Store, and the implication that it ever would be is frankly insulting.
“Jaguars Junction” is an independent source of football analysis unaffiliated with any professional sports franchise.