Sis-boom-hurrah

 Flipped on the tube yesterday afternoon, and there was Bill Belchick in Ireland, glowering into his Guinness. He was all decked out in Carolina blue. An Irish rain was falling softly on his fields on thinning gray hair, and on the TCU Horned Frogs in their purple finery, and on Coach Bill's Tar Heel defense, which was smothering the life out of the Frogs.

College football was back. And yippee and sis-boom-hurrah for that.

And, yeah,  OK, they're not the same anymore, those Saturday afternoons in the fall Chris Schenkel used to rhapsodize about. The student-athletes are pros now, and half of them are on their second or third mailing address. The coaches are CEOs pulling down CEO jack. And where football is concerned, the schools aren't really schools anymore, but commercial brands subsidized by ESPN or Fox or one of the alphabet networks.

And yet ...

And yet, I watched Bill's boys send Sonny Dykes' Frogs packing, and it felt like autumn again. Out in Los Angeles, under a brilliant southern California sun, a quarterback named Jayden Maiava was completing a gazillion passes in a row -- he was 25-of-29 on the day -- as USC spanked San Jose State 42-26 and the USC band played that annoying fight song over and over and over.

Change the channel, and here was Virginia dropping an anvil on North Carolina State's Wolfpack under another brilliant sun in history-soaked Charlottesville. Stanford came from way back to beat Hawaii, and William & Mary scored 13 points in the last minute to steal one from Villanova. And out in Fargo, N.D., former FCS monster North Dakota State trampled Jacksonville 33-7 in its first-ever FBS game.

Heck. Even the Blob's Civil War nerd got some satisfaction, as its favorite school named after a Civil War general won its opener. Howard 31, Alabama A&M 24, beeotches. Ol' Oliver Otis must be waving the arm he didn't lose at Fair Oaks up in there in paradise.

A lovely day. A Saturday afternoon in late August spent jumping from one game to another, and suddenly it was late October. Set out the jack-o-lantern and get the Twizzlers ready for the trick-or-treaters.

 OK. So not really.

But you know what?

Saturday morning I was driving downtown, and along the way I passed a certain tree. Most of its leaves were green. But almost half of them had already turned a deep crimson, as if it couldn't wait to get autumn started.

Or maybe it was just dressed for the day. Maybe that.