Dear Diary,
At first glance, not many people would think that a man named Al Holcomb and I would have much in common, and until this week I probably wouldn’t have thought so either. To start with, Al is in his late 40s, and I am about twenty years younger than that, even though some days my body doesn’t feel like it. Another difference between us is that Al Holcomb is a father. But then again, Mrs Digdug often says dealing with me is like dealing with a child, so perhaps I am my own kid in a way. Finally, Al Holcomb has a Master’s Degree from West Virginia University, and the only thing I mastered in my time in college was the videogame Call of Duty: Black Ops. Yes, the differences certainly seem to outnumber the similarities, but regardless I believe this week I can relate to Mr. Holcomb better than most. But first let me rewind a few days.
This last weekend, I was out doing some yard work when my neighbor waved me over. I will make my description of him polite and brief by saying that he is a character, but in general a nice guy and good neighbor. After exchanging pleasantries, he tells me that this week he noticed termites entering his house and that he had to spend a LOT of money to have someone come treat the infestation. Let me tell you something, diary. I had a number of fears growing up. Heights. Stickers. Clowns. And for some reason (probably too much television), I feared quicksand would be a much bigger factor in my life than it ever became. But as I have acquired wisdom and a mortgage, I now understand the real threat. Termites. No longer is it a threat that is hypothetical and distant, but is quite literally looming at my doorstep. Thanksgiving is approaching, and these termites are looking at my house like it’s a plate filled with juicy turkey, fluffy mashed potatoes, delicious stuffing, and then smothered in gravy.
Understandably, this has caused me great distress since I heard the news. I now live in constant fear. It is an anchor for my mind, always pulling me back whenever my thoughts try to drift to happier waters. And then the nightmares began. I would toss and turn long into the seemingly endless hours of the night. Terrifying visions of legions of termites have haunted me. They march steadily towards their ultimate goal and my ultimate destruction. In my dreams, I can only stand and watch as they advance, an efficient and unstoppable force. I have even begun hearing things. I shook Mrs Digdug awake the other night, swearing that I could hear them in the walls. Every creak, snap, or pop that I heard (or imagined hearing) was without a doubt evidence that the battle was already lost. A few minutes later, I would feel even more defeated when Mrs Digdug would point out the source of the noise was rain hitting our bedroom windows. The psychological warfare that the termites were waging had taken its toll. I was a beaten man, and the war hadn’t even begun.
So how does this allow me to relate to Al Holcomb? Well the thing I haven’t mentioned about Mr. Holcomb is that he is the defensive coordinator of the Arizona Cardinals, and this week that means that Al’s primary job is to figure out how to stop Patrick Mahomes and the rest of the Kansas City Chief offense, a nightmarish task. I bet he too tosses and turns in his bed at night, unable to find a few mere hours of rest from the burden that lays on him this week. Perhaps he tries to count sheep as they leap over a fence only to have the vision distort, and then he finds himself counting Kareem Hunt as he leaps over defenders on his way to the endzone. Perhaps like me, he is haunted by dreams of an unstoppable force that is constantly advancing and all he can do is stand idly by and watch. Does he also wake is wife, Toni, at all hours of the night because he is hearing things? Maybe it is the voice of Chiefs radio, Mitch Holthus, constantly ringing in his ears as he shouts his signature “TOUCHDOWN! KAN-SAS CITY!!!” It could be that like me, Al also feels like a beaten man before the game has even begun.
So Al, if you are reading my diary, know that you are not alone. Feel free to give me a call this week if you find sleep as elusive as I have. We can talk through our fears and maybe together make it thru the night.
Yours Truly: Jordan "Digdug" Schrag
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