National Signing Day is tomorrow, which means grown-ass men (and ladyfolk, but not as many are afflicted) will take time out of their day to intensely watch and asses the decisions of college destinations for high school seniors they do not know and will most likely never know. Then, based on the decisions these 17 and 18-year olds make, the grown-ass crowd will engage in acts of celebration, rejoicing, wailing and gnashing of teeth, or putting on a sackcloth and rubbing ashes in their hair.
If it seems like a busy day for emotions and the ensuing expertly crafted and punctuated postings on various corners of the Internet, it most certainly is. The fury of it all will last most of Wednesday and, for some, carry over until the day their cold dead body is in the ground.
Incredibly, none of this insanity would happen if not for a little piece of technology that refuses to die. The God of Signing Day may need its own phone line, cartridge replacement, fresh paper, a continuous power supply, and make noises because it can, but no matter, all of college football kneels at its temple on this one day in February.
We’re still here because of the shadowy workings of the operatives of BIG FAX, as well as college coaches, who hate seeing an old constant go by in favor of something new that COULD BE less reliable. As a result, all the forms of technology that could easily shelve fax machines in the warehouse of uselessness right next to VCRs are ignored in favor of a beeping, whirring old friend.
Enjoy your day in the sun, cumbersome friend. For on Thursday, you go back to being a resting spot for objects people need to put down, but don’t have a table or counter space immediately at hand. More specifically, “Oh, I left it sitting on top of the fax machine.”
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