It occurred to me as I was watching the Hall of Fame Game last Sunday night — the official start to the NFL’s preseason — that four weeks of writing about the domed stadium was an awful long time.

I can’t speak for all my Weekly cohorts, but sometimes I sit back from my computer screen, lift my wrists from the edge of my keyboard and wonder aloud whether anyone really cares about what I’ve turned out here. I suppose that happens to most writers, but for me those feelings were front-and-center during that dome series. This is important stuff here, folks. More than a half-billion of your tax dollars are about to be poured into the empty lot across from Southeastern Conference headquarters downtown. If you’re not comfortable with that, you should probably start making some noise before it’s too late.

But as for me, I’m done talking about the dome for now. It gives me a headache just thinking about it. As I said before, I was watching the Hall of Fame Game last weekend and thinking about how August is absolutely the best time of the year to be a football fan. It reminds me of Lewis Black’s opening salvo from his Anticipation album: “There is no better moment that this moment, when we’re anticipating the actual moment itself. All the moments that lead up to the actual moment, those are truly the best moments. But the moment is reality, and reality always kinda sucks. We always feel better in anticipation.”

Right now, every college football team in America is undefeated. No fan sits crestfallen, watching his or her team flailing toward the conference basement. No fan as of yet has listed his or her season tickets on StubHub in anger. The furniture’s unbroken, the television glass uncracked, the Monday morning quarterbacks have yet to call an audible.

Instead we revel in anticipation. Gene Chizik’s going to create a little of that 1993 magic on the Plains; follow in the footsteps of another rookie coach who led the Tigers to a undefeated season in his first year. A BCS bowl? That’s a given for Nick Saban. By the way, what’s the Travelocity price on a four-star in Pasadena, say first week of January?

Will Nick Saban have his Tide playing in the national championship game this season? Some fans are already booking their trips to California.

Never mind that Auburn’s schedule includes road games at Tennessee, LSU and Georgia; or that the Tigers will be debuting new offensive and defensive schemes under a brand-new coaching staff. Never mind that Chizik is riding a 10-game losing streak as a head coach.

Never mind that Alabama is replacing two quarterbacks, one on offense (John Parker Wilson) and one on defense (Rashad Johnson). The two go-to guys from last year’s offensive line are both gone (Antoine Caldwell and Andre Smith). So is the starting runningback (Glen Coffee). Did I mention that Greg McElroy’s first career start will come against the seventh-best team in the country?

Never mind all that. This is the moment before the moment, for goodness’ sake. In the moment before the moment, bothersome facts are just white noise behind the surround sound of anticipation.

Alas, in the period of time between me writing and you reading, you’ll still be in anticipation of the moment. So here’s wishing your team all the luck in the world before that moment. Because once the moment arrives, the momentous, weightless moment of toe meeting leather… after that moment, you’re team will most likely… kinda suck.

During that dome series, I’m sorry to say that I missed bringing several important pre-preseason moments to you via this column. They may not have much impact on the outcome of the forthcoming college and NFL seasons, but these were important moments nonetheless.

July is typically the time for conference media days, wherein coaches and players from teams throughout the country parade through the gauntlet of radio, TV, print and Internet media and offer as little insight as possible to their chances for success during the upcoming season.

Guys, we learned some good news at SEC Media Days here in Birmingham: God’s stepson Tim Tebow is still carrying his V-card. The Florida Gators’ starting signal-caller was quizzed on stage about his sexual history by notoriously pithy blogger and best-selling author Clay Travis, who was curious to know if the Christian athlete was really practicing what he preaches. Tebow said he was indeed saving himself for marriage.

That means that you, man or woman reading this column, you have likely seen more amorous action than a boyishly handsome, two-time national championship winning quarterback. I consider that good news. And hey, for all you guys and gals out there who have yet to taste love’s forbidden fruit…neither has Tim Tebow! See how much better you feel now! You’re still cool.

Meanwhile, in Salt Lake City, big news emerged from WAC (that’s Western Athletic Conference) Media Days, believe it or not. Seems that Greg McMackin, the second-year Hawaii Warriors head coach, came down with a righteous case of foot-in-mouth disease. While recalling his team’s beat-down at the hands of Notre Dame in the Hawaii Bowl, McMackin referred to the “WE ARE” (clap, clap) “ND!” chant that the Irish break into from time to time as a “little faggot dance.”

The 64-year-old McMackin then used the term twice more while pleading with the media not to report his first usage of the word. The media reported it anyway, and, following a tearful press conference, the coach was suspended for 30 days and was forced to forfeit $169,000 of his $1.1 million annual salary.

It should be noted that Hawaii’s players also perform a ritual dance before games that some people might describe as… unusual. And their nickname used to be the “Rainbow Warriors”, until they went with something a little less gay.

(Oh God, that last sentence… I didn’t mean to… I was trying to… please don’t print that last sentence. I’ll give you money! Oh God, I’m so sorry.)

Last and least, as I was watching that Hall of Fame Game the realization that John Madden would no longer be providing patently obvious football insight slowly began to sink in. In case you missed it, Madden retired from the mic several weeks ago and now former studio analyst Cris Collinsworth has officially called shotgun alongside Al Michaels on NBC’s Sunday night football telecast.

Madden’s legacy is completely different from that of other famous football broadcasters. I wasn’t even alive during Howard Cosell’s reign on Monday Night Football, but I’ve seen enough Odd Couple reruns to know that his presence in the booth was in many ways more exciting than the action he described on the field. I caught the tail-end of Keith Jackson’s heyday behind the glass, yet sitting here now I can rattle off a half-dozen of his memorable calls.

Madden wasn’t like that. We all remember the Telestrator, the turkey legs and the tough-actin’ Tinactin ads. But Madden’s legacy for many football fans my age and younger will live on through his video game empire. After all, no one is standing in line tonight to purchase “Cosell 10” from EA Sports.

Still, I’ll miss his gregariousness and the personality he brought to the broadcast booth. Today’s play-by-play crews tend to be high on baritone and low on individualism. No one stands out anymore the way Madden did. I’ll miss that. Listening to Sunday Night Football now will be like watching Loony Tunes after Mel Blanc passed on (or, for Family Guy fans, wrong-sounding muppets after Jim Henson took a “wait-and-see attitude”) The characters are still there, but it’s just not quite the same.

But you can take heart, Madden fan. You think you’ll miss the big guy, think how about Frank Caliendo must feel? Better get that Obama voice down in a hurry, big guy.

“Upon Further Review” is the Birmingham Weekly sports page. Write to matt@bhamweekly.com