The Great Houston Hiatus: When Sundays Became a Mystery Meat Gumbo of Boredom
Ah, Houston. A city known for its booming energy industry, delicious barbecue, and...well, a not-so-distant past where Sundays were about as exciting as watching paint dry (unless, of course, that paint was drying on a perfectly smoked brisket). Yes, friends, we're talking about the dark ages of Houston football, the time between the Oilers' unceremonious exit in 1997 and the Texans' glorious arrival in 2002.
Five. Long. Years. For some cities, that might be a blip on the radar. But for Houston, a city that practically bleeds football fandom, it felt like an eternity. Imagine it: Sundays, once a day of cheering on your favorite team, devolved into a desperate scramble to fill the void.
- Tried watching golf? Houston humidity and pristine putting greens? Not exactly a match made in heaven.
- Thought about competitive napping? Sure, you could win the "Most Motionless Mammal" award, but the glory just wasn't the same.
- Contemplated professional tiddlywinks? Look, we were desperate, okay?
The city mourned. Backyard barbecues became strangely subdued affairs. The sound of crickets (or maybe that was just the tumbleweeds rolling through NRG Stadium...okay, maybe not that dramatic) replaced the roar of the crowd. Local breweries saw a spike in sales, but let's be honest, that could have been for a variety of reasons (hello, scorching Texas summers!).
But fear not, Houston faithful! Our cries for pigskin salvation were eventually heard. In 1999, the NFL gods (or maybe it was just Commissioner Tagliabue) smiled upon us, and the Houston Texans were born. The city erupted in a celebration that likely rivaled the one they threw when they finally landed air conditioning.
So, the moral of the story? Appreciate your football team, Houston. Because let's face it, Sundays without football are about as appetizing as lukewarm gumbo.
