How to Love The NFL.

There is an old joke, “what is the difference between the NFL and the Houses of Congress?” The NFL is filled with people making enormous amounts of money doing something of no benefit to anyone… Wait, I think that was suppose to be Congress is filled with… I think I forgot the punchline, or the riddle. Either way, this time of year it is important to be able to talk about the NFL, the playoffs, and the teams involved. You should be able to throw in a few terms like “blitz” “zone coverage,” “post route,” and “super bowl commercials.”

“Hey, Bob, did you see that game between the Cowboys and the Vikings? It was a close game, with a lot of blitz, and zone and post routing. Fortunately for the Cowboys they played on land, had it been on sea the Vikings and their vastly superior knowledge of ocean going vessels would have won in a rout. Please hand me the French Vanilla aerated non dairy creamer, and the a couple of packets of all natural, saccharine free artificial sweetener.”

In that one sentence you have convinced Bob that your a knowledgeable professional football fan with a firm grasp of Nordic history and tradition who is careful about what he puts in his coffee. And you still have “super bowl commercials” stashed safely away. An ace in the hole. Soon people will be coming to you for pregame analysis, in game commentary and post game autopsy. 

This is an awesome responsibility. You must temper what you say. No matter your personal opinion you shouldn’t say things like “Bob, your team got waxed, they played like a bunch of old women waiting on a bus. Which is ok because I hate them, if they never won again it would be too soon. If they played the Black Plague I would root against them.” People get upset about those kinds of statements. In many ways they identify so closely with the teams it becomes like an attack on their person. In essence, they assume, you just said you like a medieval disease spread by flea infested rats and  killed 60% of the population of Europe more than you like them. Which is kind of hurtful.

And after your showy, pretentious display of Scandinavian history people are going to assume you understand the awful implications of invoking such a dreadful scourge. In a way you are a real jerk! What did Bob ever do to you anyway? You know what, you can get your own dammed coffee creamer.

Sunday, and the news.

I am not sure there is much left worth saving. Watching the Sunday Morning NFL pre-game show on television they devoted a whole, lengthy portion of the show to discuss a football player who had been accused of beating his wife.

It was a very somber discussion. With overtones of punishment and retribution. Everybody was outraged. Different targets were dragged through the cross hairs of the panels vitriol, and outrage.  It was so serious they had to bring in experts. Football players and sports announcers, and some other sport "personalities." It was gripping. 

It went on for hours, at least it seemed like hours, and in the end they decided that he should not have beaten his wife. I wasn't paying that much attention, but it seemed to be a split decision about whether he should be playing but it seemed unanimous about domestic violence being bad. It was gripping.

It is amazing how long so many can talk about something so serious, so tragic, and never say anything worth listening to. And how many people watch and listen. 

Normally I don't watch anything involving professional sports, and I hardly ever watch a pregame anything, but my son is a big sports fan. The sins of the son being visited upon the father.

It seems like this whole thing is a comedy of errors, he beat his wife, and there are pictures of evidence. But, he was never prosecuted. He was suspended, but it was reduced, and he was signed to a new contract by the Cowboys, and it gives the people on television something to act indignant about.

In the end nobody is going to do anything, and life will go on. Winning is everything, and a woman's bruises and scars are fodder for people fighting for ratings. Enjoy the game.

"I was sitting home alone one night,

in LA watching old Cronkite on the seven o'clock news

Seems there was an earthquake that left

nothing but a panama hat and a pair of Greek shoes,

Didn't seem like much was happening 

so I turned it off and went to get another beer

Seems like every time you turn around 

there's another hard luck story that you're gonna hear

And I never did plan to go anyway

To Black Diamond Bay."

Black Diamond Bay by Bob Dylan

A Hero Saves the Day.

It was a terrifyingly close call yesterday.  The game could have gone either way, and it was not decided until the very end.  But, in the end a shiny knight, a determined, willful, young man, using speed, elusiveness, and power rescued a team, and it's fans.

The Cornhuskers played a very

determined opponent, a team hell bent on bringing home a victory as well as a big pay check.  They intended to be the loathsome, conquering invaders, sieging the Big Red Empire.  Cowboy hordes from Louisiana with evil intentions.  How difficult the situation looked with less than a minute left.

Most of the day our high powered offense was outrun, and over-powered, and McNeese State looked like a team that had every right to be playing at Memorial Stadium on Saturday, in the fall.  They were fast, ruthless, angry, and impressive.

With time running out, and things looking desperate, we needed something, some spark, somebody had to do something.  Third and six, at our own 41, and people all over were hoping for a first down, and another play that would bring us to within field goal range, at least people around here.

A quick, short pass to Ameer Abdullah, who stepped backward to avoid one tackle, headed upfield slowing long enough to deliver a hammering blow to three defenders, who fell to the ground as he ran past, and people in the stands held their breath.  After picking up a couple blocks, including a crucial down field hit from Jordan Westerkamp, who proved he can make magic without catching the ball, he shifted into a higher gear, sprinted into the endzone and won the game, and people in the stands let out a shout of glorious gratitude, and relief.

Earlier in the week the Cornhuskers had tweeted some of Abdullah's stats, and they were impressive.  But, the thing that stayed with me, was the hashtag, #FearAmeer, mostly because it was so catchy.  Today, it seems we should add a few well deserved hashtags.  I would like to nominate #ThankAmeer, and, possibly #AdoreAmeer, though, in fairness, I did not have to try to tackle him when he was determined to save the day.

Once more to quote Bob Dylan,

"Thunder on the mountain, fires on the moon,
There's a ruckus in the alley and the sun will be here soon,
Today's the day, gonna grab my trombone and blow,
Well, there's hot stuff here and it's everywhere I go.

Thank you, Bob, and thank you Ameer.

A short lived career.

Last weekend my son asked a question about the government, and a perfect opportunity for education was born.  He needs to understand the obtrusive, controlling interference that has been the overriding purpose of governments throughout history.  Sure, they provide roads, waste removal, national security, and parks and recreational opportunities, plus education, and assistance in many facets of research and development, but that is just a front, a method to cover the real purpose. The manipulation and control of the lives of it's citizenry. Who better to explain this than John Kay of Steppenwolf, (he is from Canada, the largest, and most successful, state, I think it is somewhere around Montana)?.  And what better vehicle than the lyrics from "The Ostrich"?

"You're free to speak your mind, my friend,
As long as you agree with me,
Don't criticize the Fatherland,
Or those who shape your destiny,
'Cause if you do, you'll lose your mind, your job and all the friends you knew,
We'll send out all our boys in blue,
And they'll find a way to silence you."

Oh, the nostalgia, the memories, troubadours of defiance, artists against the "establishment."  Leaping quickly to action, I had a cup of coffee and thought about some cool songs. By Wednesday evening, I had assembled a play list of anger, and disillusionment selectively going between Amazon and iTunes to fill in the gaps in my collection, judiciously using whichever was less expensive. Thursday morning it was ready, the turning of the page, the dawning of a new age.

Here is the list (you know, sometimes lists are useful and can be very cool);

All loaded and ready to roll, it was a great drive to work.  I got out in the parking lot, and thought, "I'm through toilin' for the MAN.  It is time to take a stand against tyranny, injustice, it is time to stand up and be the voice of those that can not be heard."  Fuming, angry, intolerant, life was going to start playing by my rules, answering to me.

Then, daylight came and slapped me in the face, "you have a mortgage, a car payment, an HMO and a retirement plan, plus your son is headed for college. And, don't forget, the Klondike Bars in the freezer at home."  Revolution will have to wait,"  Reality said.  Curse you reality, curse your love affair with cold, hard, remorseless facts, and curse your flawless refrigerator inventory technique.

Oh well, change is difficult, and I probably don't have the stomach for insurgency, anyway.  Remember, though, good music should speak to you in powerful, wonderful ways, art should always make you dream.  Everybody should be allowed to feel like a revolutionary once in a while, but, the dishwasher still needs emptied and somebody has to make the first pot of coffee, so off I go, smiling, happy about the beautiful weather, and delighted there is only one more day until the weekend.

Tomorrow on the way to work, "Ghost Riders in the Sky" by Johnny Cash, "Cheyenne" by the Del Lords  and "My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys" by Willie Nelson,  I hope I can find some boots, a hat and a lariat, because I will be ready to ride the range.