Are you ready for some FoooootBALLLLLL???? In my case, that’s like asking Socrates if he’s ready for his hemlock.

Stupor Bowl Sunday is next weekend, and once again the attention (such as it is) of the nation will be gripped by the vulgar spectacle, the ultimate of its kind, of armored men pitted one against the other in a colossal arena overflowing with bloodthirsty and screaming spectators. Sound familiar? There’s a reason these games have been labeled with Roman numerals.

Football itself is a violent and dismal affair, conducted by psychopaths and circus behemoths, sometimes in the same body. And did I say excruciatingly boring? The Super Bowl, including its witless pomp and pageantry and "entertainment," is routinely a five-hour undertaking, just sixty minutes of which is actual play. But the depressing extravaganza is riveting to the millions (billions?) who band together to watch it on TV, and even more so to the hundred thousand or so who happily fork over hundreds and even thousands of dollars to witness it in person.

I say "riveting," but the word maybe ought to be "catatonic." The typical Super Bowl celebrant, who more than likely is drunk before the game even starts, may be transfixed by the "action," but I’ll bet he’d be hard-pressed to recount just what he’s seen the next day.

How did football achieve such a hold on our imagination? Do we identify with the players, most of whom are the size of livestock and sometimes of Thanksgiving Day floats? Do we envy them their murderous assaults on one another? Do we marvel at the intricate strategy, which mainly consists of the terrified quarterback handing the ball off or throwing it as quickly as he can, before he gets mugged?

I say it has to do with our ever-shrinking attention spans. Football, with its repetitive pattern of seven seconds of activity, followed by a minute or so of consultation (the huddle), during which a steroid-addled crew of analysts tell us what we’ve just seen and what we’re about to see, is the ideal pastime for our Republic of ADD.

Still, as much as you’ll resist it, like me you’re bound to be a prisoner at a Stupor Bowl party next Sunday. For your diversion, here’s my own Glossary of Football Terms. Memorize them and maybe you’ll be able to stay awake through the proceedings, and have even more fun coming up with some of your own.

Blitz. The effect produced by a bootleg (see below).

Bootleg. A variety of whiskey imbibed by crazed spectators.

Center snap. A psychosis in which an offensive ball-hiker goes haywire after the quarterback gets too friendly with his hands.

Huddle. A sixty-second break between every seven seconds of play. An opportunity for the players to swap jokes and stock market tips, and for spectators to sleep or catch their breaths between electrifying two- and three-yard runs.

Illegal procedure. Any play resulting in more than two- or three-yard run, or not resulting in injury or death.

Linebacker. Homicidal maniac. His job is to hide behind towering defensive linemen and ambush ball-carriers with flying tackles, karate chops or two-by-fours.

Nose tackle. A favorite play of linebackers. The ball-carrier’s proboscis is seized and used to fling him to the ground.

Option. A stock market term used by huddled players.

Referee. The major impediment to excitement in any football game. He is required to drop his handkerchief on any play covering more than three yards, thereby nullifying it.

Special teams. Units of players considered too deranged even for linebacker duty. "Special" in the sense that retarded people are called special.