When the Not For Long group of cowards gets its “Collective” head out of its ass and tells Colin Kaepernick and his “fellow travelers” to take a hike, then and only then will I return to viewership of professional football as played in the middle of North America. Long have I held the National Anthem had no businesses supporting such gross behavior by the fans – not to mention immodest coaches and players – to warrant that sad song’s exclusion from pregame observances, and, too, I do not like my jingoism, especially poorly feigned, before any level of scholarly, collegian or professional entertainment. I’m not a big fan of prayers before play – reminds me of S.L. Clemens’ The War Prayer – especially when such practices sometimes are greeted with ignorant disdain or outright hostile counter cultural response.
Since it seems, however, we must honor – if not exactly – the memory of Kate Smith, somehow just please do not televise the charade. Please. I care not that a popinjay third-string quarterback with too many tattoos ever to get a real job not requiring a burka himself, with a fat checkbook wants to “take a knee.” I care even less that he feels solidarity with those whom he considers “oppressed,” as I am sure he considers himself. His sympathy, though, so far as I or the rest of the informed world knows somehow has not extended to enscribing large sums in that checkbook to help alleviate some of the aforesaid oppression. And if Mr. Kaepernick has managed to find fellow worshipers for the church of the oppressed who, too, play professional football – and a girl soccer player who demands the world kowtow to her lesbianish ways – more power to ‘im! But not my power. That I have turned off, tuned out to another offering or just dropped altogether – with no apology whatsoever to another oppressed former minority, Timothy Leary, PhD, Deceased. When Colin and Crew feel they are oppressed the can remind themselves at least they are not like “the poor” here in America.
In this land of oppressed poor they have to make do with taxpayer supported free cell phones, heating and air-conditioning subsidies, food – again at taxpayer expense – and groceries to include sugar-ladened soda and snacks, and cash to pay (or not) for cars, apartments or houses to shame a “rich” middleclass European – also subsidized in many cases – and free medical and dental and vision and somehow plasma television with cable included…you get the drift. The so terribly oppressed here have it so hard that that young man just has to “take a knee” to tell America he feels their pain. And, you know, he’s perfectly within his rights so to do.
That is, until enough viewership – and sponsorship slippage with resulting acknowledging consumer polls proving or not – declines to convince The Cowards At The Top to respond and tell the National Football League’s Players Association to “get its head out” because it is taking all the available air out because that is where we put the viewers first and things “be gettin’ cramped” in there! But don’t hold your breath too long – aside from the odoriousness of it all, that is – just find some thing(s) else to do. Books, gardens, travel, grandkids, fishing, hell, practically impossible to succeed at practice-procreation if you want! And tell the Not For Me league you’ve had enough foolishness for a season. And if they want numbers by Halloween, they can just say “Trick or Trick!”
This ain’t a treat!
My garden, though, thanks you NFL (and Colin! Musn’t forget Colin!) for the hiatus. My music is grateful I remember how to slide in a disc. My time spent with NOVA, Masterpiece Theatre, The Create Channel, My untouched books, my lonely hammock still with the marquee showing last month’s double-feature inside-eyelid movie shows, they all thank you. If it weren’t for your cowardice, NFL, and for your spoiled brats, led by a loser quarterback trying to maintain some kind of relevance, you could be thanking me for my continued reverent participation – except for the horrid, self-serving halftime and post-game shows which are like adding fleas to my nuts so I can keep scratching, everyone else thanks you for the time off. I would say Time Out. But we know that’s a misnomer: it’s really just another Commercial Break.
I see now that even one high school team out on The Left Coast – and its coaches, too – have joined the parade to put a thumb in the eye of Old Glory and its many fans. Will the PETA people be far behind? If you have not the guts to slap this stupid stuff about the head and shoulders until it shudders to a stop, at least quit playing to the prurient interest of the idiots who think such is Real Protest at Last! We rarely if at all saw the Anthem or the presentation of The Colors unless it was in the presence of a “Star” whom the Powers Who Kneel want lionized. Return to that formula at the very least – a sop to the masses as it were.
Just don’t throw that sop too hard or too far. Some of us may Return Serve. You entertainers out there best do well to learn the lesson of The Dixie Chicks or The Indigo Girls or that other famous All-Girl Band, Alec Baldwin.
One wonders if NASCAR will announce a Transgender Race in its next season’s offerings? Or a TG peehouse located between the other seventeen or so recognized genders? Will the NHL players don multi-hued garb in support of The Alphabet Community Kowtowing Yarbirds (do the math and figger the acronym yourselves) or will the Spirit of The Broad Street Bullies (doncha just love the symbolism there?) emerge and say this far and no further! Surely, such sports whose very existence depends on the nickels and dimes contributed by the Kaepernick Kommunity will force those two bastions of testosterone to bow. Maybe the Boy-Girl Scouts will grow a set and tell the Last Administrator those two famous words…