LET'S GO CAMPING!

by Tracer Bullet, Staff Writer

And not that bad kind of camping like you did when you were 8 and some of the male teachers took the boys on a camping trip. The janitor smelled like motor oil and sweat and he lied when he said it would only hurt for a second . . . but I digress.

NFL teams have already started training camp or will start camp this week, and you, being the pathetic football football crackwhore that you are, are willing to drive hours to some college campus in the middle of nowhere to satisfy your jones. S'all good, 'cause the Bullet is right there with you, with a mouthful of Roger Goodell's man-meat.

As game tickets get more goddamned expensive and harder to get, going to watch training camp is the best way to see your squad in action without selling a kidney to pay for the experience. In most cases you can get far closer to the players, lots of guys are willing to sign autographs and you don't have to deal with any opposing fans. (You're enthusiastic, they're assholes.)

Thirty-one of 32 teams open training camp to the public (Sorry, Raiders fans. You'll have to save that snack you found behind the abortion clinic until Week 1). Baby Bullet and I have been to Lehigh to catch the Eagles three times now -- the first when she was a month old. She's hardcore -- and we've learned a few important things:

It's hot. It's real goddamn hot. And you, because NFL owners don't care about you, will be sitting completely exposed to the merciless sun, probably on aluminium bleachers. Please note, they make toaster ovens out of aluminium. So dress light. White, as any Patriots fan will tell you, is a good idea.

There is no such thing as too much water. NFL owners are ruthless plutocrats who would charge a drowning man for a straw. As such, there will be plenty of concessions available and they will cost you and arm and a leg. (The Jets take this literally. They will do anything to fix that rag hanging off Pennington's right shoulder.) But you are smarter than that and you will pack a cooler. Lots of ice, lots of water. I know you can't enjoy football or time with your family without alcohol, but alcohol will dehydrate you and you'll pass out hours before Eagles fans start booing the backup kicker. Only the players actually need Gatorade, but if you don't care about wasting money and you're not worried about extra calories -- and clearly you aren't, buttergut -- then go nuts.

Arrive early. Sitting in the hot sun is unpleasant. Standing in the hot sun is worth stabbing somebody. In an uncommon show of mercy, Detroit only allows the first 700 fans in, and lots of places have limited seating. Plus, depending on the geography of the practice fields, you could spend a few hours facing east with morning sun blasting you in the face, or a few hours facing west with the afternoon sun blasting you in the face. The owners hate you.

It's training camp for you, too. Work out your obnoxious cheers. Knock the rust off your tailgating technique. Show off that hideous tattoo you got in the off-season. But, please, no costumes. You may think everybody admires your dedication to the squad. In reality, they think that it's hot and you're a shithead.

You will sit in traffic. Relax. We're all trying to get someplace as fast as we can. Your honking is not helping matters. STFU.

Dallas fans, you're screwed. This, of course, is no less than you filthy pig-men deserve. Yet and still, even you soap-phobic creeps deserve the chance to watch your team prepare to go without a playoff win again (12 years and counting, ass eaters). But, because Jerry Jones would happily dig through an orphan's chest if he thought the kid had a nickel on his back, the Cowboys hold their training camp in Oxnard, Calif. This may say something other than, "Go f--- yourself, Dallas fans," but I don't know what.

This might be the best time of the football season. All teams are 0-0, all rookies are potential All-Pros and all the free agent moves were brilliant. Optimism abounds -- except in Arizona because that's where hope goes to die. Rejoice, my friends, for football has returned. Fly Eagles, fly.