Perfect Call, Jim

There is a disturbing trend on televised college football games. More than just one, really, but for today we are going to ignore the win at all costs, including the millions paid to coaches, the gaudy excess of modern stadiums, the shameless, underhanded ways schools violate NCAA rules, the sickening pandering of the press and officials toward the elite among the sport, the ridiculous amount of time spent training children to win, no matter what. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the ridiculous way coaching contracts are written. These people are hired, paid millions, adored, praised, lavished with gifts to win games. And then when they don’t win enough games schools are forced to either fire them and pay the remainder of the contract or pretend they are there to promote education and citizenship and manufacture some artificial outrage to fire them for “lack of institutional control.”  When was the last time a guy coming off a championship season got the axe for “lack of institutional control.” Give me a break...

Well, we might not ignore them completely.

What I am here to talk about today is the instant replay official who shows up on the screen to discuss the calls being viewed by the instant replay official who is off screen and working hard to make the right call. 

What really bothers me is the way he agrees completely with whatever call was made. I understand the difficulties faced by officials, referees, umpires, trying to make the right decision in a violent, fast paced game. And I assume most times they get it right, and when they don’t they are only human, the reason they instituted the instant replay review.

Most times they probably get that right, and if they don’t, well they are only human. And, then they go to the official replay official and he always says “well, they sure got that one right.” And then he will explain why, and how, and what, and everybody will pat each other on the back. One more face on the television telling me how everything is working perfectly. According to plan. No mistakes. 

And we can all sleep easy. You can thank them later.

Football, evolution and the curse of the modern world

It is Sunday, late summer, and the air is cool and comfortable, sometimes a little too cool to be comfortable, still it feels like summer is gone. Summer is great, everybody loves summer, all of the sun, and swimming, but it can really wear out its welcome. Ninety degree heat and ninety percent humidity can create drag, friction. If it weren't for all of the sweat there would be a lot of people bursting into flames. Sweat is a wonderful evolutionary device.

Evolution has given us quite a bit. It has taken us from our early days of roaming from place to place, digging in the dirt for roots, chasing down animals, hunting and gathering, to a civilized world filled with soaking wet, sweaty people who are chasing down bargain meat, and vegetables in Mega Stores. Fighting over the last 3 pound package of reduced price ground chuck, as you watch helplessly from the back of the crowd, thinking "I wish those people would burst into flames, and I could grab that package of delicious hamburger, and feed my family."

But, they won't. Because evolution has provided us the means, at great expense to keep these gigantic, cavernous buildings cool and comfortable. And filled with wonderful food products that will sustain our families for the long week ahead, even during football season.

Football season dramatically increases the caloric intake of the average American family. Evolution has given us the intelligence to watch our favorite teams play, no matter where the game is, right from the comfort of our living room. There is so much yelling and screaming and gnashing of teeth, that it requires a dramatic increase in sustenance. Mostly beer, chips, and pizza.

It takes a lot of food and drink to watch, big sweaty men play a game. Watching with hope, against all common sense, really burns calories. It really takes energy to watch a dream die right on television. How often have we wished that the speedy running back streaking down the sideline, (as our team's defense watches helplessly with no chance of catching him) would burst into flames, the ball bouncing to our team, and saving us the humiliation of one more score in a lop sided loss?  But, evolution has saved the speedy, impossibly muscled young man safe from spontaneous combustion.

In short, evolution is mixed blessing, particularly during football season. Tune in next week when we discuss Survivor for football officials, (vote the blind one off the island) an idea whose time has come.

Rampaging Chickens.

According to a report in Sioux Falls Argus Leader, "Residents will need a license to own more than six chickens in the city limit."  This article was directly above the help wanted ad for "Municipal Chicken Counters, no experience necessary."

It may be a reform that is long past due.  Perhaps the city of Sioux Falls is about to be buried alive under domestic chickens.  There are so many good reasons for this sort of legislation.

Often, though, these laws, good intentioned though they may be, have unforeseen consequences.  What is going to happen to the 7th and 8th chickens in the yard of the Smiths on 9th street?  Here is a picture taken outside of a convenience store.  Clearly, this is not what the cautious and careful members of the Sioux Falls City Council had in mind while considering this law. 


But, the chicken is out of the bag now, and a terrified nation can only hope that it gets straightened out before tourist season is completely ruined.

Please, elected officials, legislate with care, the trusting citizens of this nation depend on your Solomon like wisdom.

Dear Elected Officials,

If you are done making a point, we would like our country, and our government back.

Thank you,

We the people.