PEPPERITIS

NCAA basketball season began, in earnest (for me), yesterday. Today the Gators of Florida hosted Steve Spurrier and his South Carolina Gamecocks in football. This annual confluence of sporting seasons and schedules is what makes winter here in Indiana almost bearable.

This afternoon I was pondering the busy TV schedule I would have and what it might mean in terms of the alignment of the planets and galaxies in my sporting universe when a barely audible whimper interrupted my reverie.

A moan, a sigh, and a whimper later, I realized something was troubling my wife.

After a brief examination I determined that she has contracted a case of “Pepperitis.”

We have a cocker spaniel – Pepper – who loves to chase a ball. Not just any ball – she enjoys only a particular manufacturer’s product which is often in short supply in retail outlets. When Pepper loses her ball, or it has disintegrated from natural causes, she mopes. She often loses her ball when she places it directly in the path of my lawnmower. (I consider that a natural cause, but that is another story.)

Oh, how she mopes! She moans. She emits a long sigh. And she whimpers. She lies with her head on her front legs and won’t look up. “Where’s your ball?” won’t elicit a wag of her tail. We call the condition Pepperitis. No manner of replacement ball is suitable.

My wife has Pepperitis now.

She loved her season of “Blacklist,” the finale of which aired this week. “Project Runway” is now Project Poof! She had been anticipating “Blacklist” at least as a much as I looked forward to the confluence of my sports seasons. “Dancing With the Stars” is almost finished, and she understands that “The Voice” has not much air time left. When “Blacklist” ended, she made me research to see when the new season begins. “After the Super Bowl” was not the answer she was hoping for.

Moan, sigh, and whimper.

“So you have something to look forward to,” I said.

Moan, sigh, and whimper. Followed by darts of profanity.

I tried the “replacement ball” strategy.

“You still have Criminal Minds.   NCIS  is still going. And you have Duck Dynasty back! I haven’t even mentioned Top Chef and Storage Wars!”

Duck, dodge, and run for cover. No manner of replacement show was suitable.

Just a few short weeks ago I would have been empathetic, if not wholly sympathetic. After all, she did allow me to watch the spelling bee and the Scrabble tourney on ESPN while my sporting world was on hiatus.

But now? Now? With one of my favorite seasons in full swing with a “Big Game” at hand and the other favorite season about to capture my full attention? Her moan, sigh, and whimper may as well be butterfly breath.

It’s not that I don’t care about her situation. I just don’t have time to care about it right this second. I have games to ponder, stars to align.

If she starts lying on the floor with her head on her arms my concern might become more immediate.

Sigh…