Burgos: What’s Thanksgiving without a little football?

Some things just go together kind of like peanut butter and jelly, ketchup and mustard, and… Some things just go together kind of like peanut butter and jelly, ketchup and mustard, and spaghetti and meatballs — and Jay Cutler and interceptions.

I’ve always shied away from the NFL Network and the whole Thursday night game thing they’ve put on for the past several seasons. But once a year, a little pigskin before the weekend feels right. That day rolls in with friends and family, stuffing and cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and whipped cream.

Today, it’s all about the turkey and football.

It’s kind of funny, though. The two teams that always play on Thanksgiving are the Cowboys and the Lions. If you know me, you know I despise Dallas as much as I despise any team in sports. The Lions, eh, who really cares? But turkey, well, I don’t really like that much either. It’s OK, but who wouldn’t rather be eating chicken?

Whatever. Despite it, something tends to come over me the last Thursday of each November. I wake up and I enjoy some Cowboy football. I sit down to dinner and I crave some turkey. I suppose that in the moment — watching Dallas score a touchdown or swallowing the fowl — I don’t actually like it. Really, I think a little bit of me dies every time I see the Cowboys actually succeed. But on these days, that pain is diminished.

It may be the buzz swarming my house, my uncle making the gravy or my grandmother surveying the kitchen’s activity. Even though my older brother inevitably looks bored, his presence in the house contributes to it too — how would I survive the day without him to make fun of family with? Perhaps it’s my father who has endless energy and enthusiasm. It could also be my mom who is always the star of the day, bringing together a lavish feast year after year.

It’s most definitely the leaves on the ground and recognition of another year passing. It’s absolutely the midnight football my friends and I play. And all around the country, I’m sure others feel similarly.

But you know whom I always think about? It’s the droves of fans that donate a huge part of their day to attend the games in Dallas and Detroit. On a day of thanks, they drape themselves in their blue and silver and they support their football team. For many, especially in today’s sport culture, fans pay large chunks of their salary for the chance to watch football in the flesh.

Though they are in the stands and not watching from their couches, I can’t help but think their day is no less about family and tradition than mine. Sport is about community and loyalty. It’s about pride and it’s about love. That goes for athletes and fans alike, but on this day it is the fans that we need to commemorate.

I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor fans of the Lions. Last week, with their team 1-8 and playing at home against a Browns team with the same record, the league blacked out the game on television because the stadium was not sold out. But don’t the fans feel betrayed a bit? I might if I were one of them. But in the end, I can’t imagine a Lions fan turning their back on the team. My guess is today they’ll be pulling just as hard for their faithful. And it’ll be because they’re thankful.

They’re thankful for a deep ball corralled for a score. They’re thankful for their sweat and their effort. It’s the buzz of the stadium, the players on the field. They’re thankful for the familiar feeling of years passed and the chance to relive that one day just as they always have. They’re thankful for the tradition — kind of like in your home or mine, just with a patch of grass in the middle and 60,000 other people huddled around.

And by the way, Happy Thanksgiving.