Our warm congratulations to all you June brides and grooms, who managed to tie the knot without interfering with America’s true national pastime. The last acceptable Saturdays in the calendar year on which to get married are waning fast, and the scourge of the fall wedding looms large and frilly beyond. Quoth our friend and amateur wedding planner colleague Jason Kirk, ”Here’s your complete guide to scheduling a fall wedding: Do not ever do it.”
There are flimsy cases to be made for autumn nuptials. Our dearest friend is fond of saying winter is too cold, summer too hot and spring just too damn chirpy. (We suspect she just wants to throw her fall wedding to test the true devotion of every one of her friends and family. She’s an adorable sociopath.) But you’re always going to trip up somebody’s rooting schedule, even if your entire extended family is all bound to, say, a school with strong ties to your church. BYU alums plotting out ceremonies for the Cougars’ bye week are bound to find some UU partisans lurking in the family trees. Not everybody can get into Notre Dame (just ask anybody who went to Notre Dame).
“But your cousin only gets married once,” your least-favorite auntie might scold, “and football games will still be there next year.” Only if you know your cousin, she’ll stroll down that aisle at least twice more in her lifetime, and the games won’t be there, really. Each Red River Shootout is its own unique creature. Last season’s Orange Bowl can never be replicated. LSU and Alabama, you might have heard, met twice on the field in one year, with wildly divergent outcomes.