Full heart

Because I am fully, deeply, overwhelmingly immersed in Friday Nights Lights* right now, I can find an article like this, which concludes like this, not cheesy but moving, even mythical:

In Muck City, the children have nervously followed their fathers and grandfathers into the mud and the fire and emerged with a fearlessness that most of us cannot understand. Soon we will gather in front of our televisions and watch receivers run over the middle and linebackers dive headfirst at loose footballs. We will tell ourselves we could do this too, if we were paid millions, or if we were famous, or if we took steroids. But we'll forget how the game of football is born out of hunger, and courage, and desperation, and community, and hope. And how sometimes it's played in spite of everything else.

So, yes - the tv series. It is breaking my heart into little sentimental pieces every night, and I don't give a damn who knows it. Then again, I read the book too, and it broke my heart just as effectively, if in a very different way.