NFL Sundays are sacred. There’s only so many we fans get each year and it’ll be a cold day in hell before we ever let those days slip by without making the most of it. For the most die-hard, rituals are normally developed and the whole day/game just doesn’t feel right unless we’re able to complete our respective and very necessary checklists.
For me, Sunday’s are the day to throw caution and fiscal responsibility to the wind. Those 17 Sundays are reserved for the finer things in life, meaning I absolutely treat the hell out of myself.
The day MUST begin with a phenomenal breakfast.