Because it’s silly. We get stressed over a clock. We build our weekends around 60 minutes of bouncing air pressure and meaty collisions. The time matters because we make it matter.
Think about it: Lions don’t know what time it is. They just hear a whistle and the smell of grass. But we, the noble fans, treat the clock like a sacred scroll.
One last punchy thought.
Tomorrow’s game time is a secret handshake between you and millions of strangers. At that exact moment, everyone will look at a screen and shout. That’s beautiful chaos.
So, find that time. Set your alarm. Stock your fridge. Tomorrow, the Lions play. And you, my friend, will be there.
