Ruling Out a Democratic Win

This is one of the stories I clicked on last week, from my news feed:

There’s a lot that set me off right from the get-go. Let’s start with the journalistic trope about when they ask you to “rule something out.” I hate that because it only serves journalists who want a big scoop, whether they create it out of thin air or otherwise. The press always wants people to rule things out so they can frame a story as “Hey, this is possible,” or “Hey, he said he’ll never do this,” the latter of which they keep for a future story when he eventually does the thing in question.

If I were a politician (or athletic team coach, business exec, or anyone else the press would care to interview), my inclination would be to never rule anything out ever. Why eliminate an option you might need, even if you don’t currently see it as necessary? It just ties your own hands.

“Sorry, it’s my policy to never rule anything out because you never know what the circumstances will be when it’s time to make a decision.” Those would be my exact words every time I’m asked for a rule-out.

So I can see how AG Blanche might want to dance this dance.

However…

There ARE certain things I could easily rule out because they’re immoral or blatantly illegal. Like, I could say that if the Steelers won the next Super Bowl, I could rule out my running down the street clad only in a pair of Steelers Crocs and a Terrible Towel. (This is Baltimore, after all. A guy could get seriously killed for that here.) And if I were the nation’s top attorney, I would certainly know that taking steps to alter election results is not within the federal government’s powers, “Doomsday” or not, so I would rule out doing so. The AG did not do that, leaving the door open for future interference. And by omitting a definition of “Doomsday,” it leaves it wide open to interpretation.

I’m confident, however, that “Doomsday” equals “The Republicans lose control of Congress.” It’s the usual mindset: “Heads, I win; tails, you lose.” There’s no fraud unless the Democrats win. Such a nice world they’ve created for themselves, huh?

So yes, such actions would definitely be illegal. But why would that ever stop them from happening? Who is the authority here, to whom people could appeal? The Justice Department itself is the perp. They’re not going to sue on behalf of The People, or do anything at all. The courts are hit and miss, until you get to the Supreme one, which stands 6-3 with the perps. I presume they’d do rock-paper-scissors to see which one of the three “reasonable ones” gets to dissent, while keeping the 5-4 win. The whole process is guaranteed to take lots of time. And what happens during this Constitutional crisis? The White House claims emergency powers and has its toadie Speaker of the House refrain from seating the new Congresspeople.

What? That’s not a legal maneuver for the White House? They’ll just put it on the same legal carousel with the original interference and start bleeding the clock.

You can’t rely on game rules when the refs have thrown out the rulebook.

The thing I’ve heard that I most believe is that the Administration is setting up California for the next big emergency. You can see they’ve started by demanding the state withhold ballots from 20k people they say are illegally registered. They’re getting it all teed up so that after the Dems sweep through results, they can use that to create an emergency, from confiscating ballots and voting machines to sending troops/ICE, suing the state, and ultimately refusing to seat any of California’s Representatives. Because California has so many, that alone may be enough to keep the Republican majority.

As for the line I circled in the screenshot above, the administration is also trying to torpedo Democrats from taking the Senate. You’ve heard about the two Republicans who have the same name, running for the seat? Despite this having already been adjudicated within the state court system, and the two candidates have been easily differentiated on the ballot (one having the word “incumbent” by his name), the president is still crying foul and claiming it’s a Democratic conspiracy. It’s all a big conspiracy unless the Republican they want wins, or the Democrat wins by less than the amount of votes the “other” Republican draws, in what’s expected to be a very tight race. So once again, it’s “rigged unless we win.” So much victimhood, so little character.

Do you know what I don’t hear? Republicans making an effort to draw attention to their nominee of choice by emphasizing his middle initial, or stressing that he’s the incumbent. You know, running some effective advertising.

OR, just as a wild, last-gasp ploy, trying to put forth an agenda that makes life better for Alaskans, as opposed to continually smearing the opposition and anything they can tie to the opposition.

But then, you just can’t draw water from an empty well.

Super Bowling 2026

Welp, there’s another Super Bowl in the books. Might as well talk about it. (The viewing experience, not the actual game. There are sports pages for that.)

I don’t like either team, so I didn’t have much of a stake in the game. I no longer hate the Patriots like I used to when they had coach Belichick and Tom Brady. And I’m still annoyed about how the Seahawks fans bellyached about the officials for the next 20 years after the Super Bowl they lost to my Pittsburgh Steelers in 2006. Nevertheless, my self-interest won out over the other concerns.

I rooted for the Seahawks solely because I didn’t want the Patriots to win their 7th Super Bowl, which would surpass the number of wins by the Steelers.

My family and I actually attended that Super Bowl in Detroit; it was a lifetime dream, but one I wouldn’t care to repeat. It was insanely expensive then; end-zone tickets with a $600 face value cost us $2600 via ticket brokers. It’s more than double that now and basically cost-prohibitive for the average fan, which is a cryin’ shame but a sign of our modern times. And it’s a big risk too. It’s worth every penny when your team wins, but to spend that kind of dough to see your guys lose? That’s a real kick in the gut that I was lucky to avoid.

But I digress.

Most of the attention for this year’s game was about the halftime show, which featured a Puerto Rican artist named Bad Bunny. This distressed the president so much that his people created an alternate halftime show, because, you know, maybe speaking Spanish is contagious? The alternate show featured washed-up white rap guy Kid Rock and some other irrelevant white country singers.

After the show, TFG started putting out his numerous complaints about the original halftime show via Truth Social, which just goes to show that he didn’t want to watch Kid Rock either. He’d rather complain about foreigners than watch something he’s supposed to enjoy.

Before this halftime act was announced, I had never even heard of the headliner. The only Bad Bunny I knew was this one:

Run away! Run away!

Now, Bad Bunny wasn’t the halftime act I wanted to see either. But the cold, hard fact is that none of the acts in the past 10-15 years have been ones I’d pick. And that’s because I’m an old white guy who loves rock n roll, and I’m no longer the prime demographic for these things. I’m still upset that AC/DC has never done a halftime show, despite the fact that their music is played during games at every stadium across the country. Granted, they’re even older than I am, so their opportunity for that has passed. But I think George Thorogood could still put on a great halftime show. That’s football music! And when the Super Bowl was in Texas, they should have booked ZZ Top. They would have rocked the house for sure.

But the modern halftime shows are more about spectacle than the music. The dance routines are complicated, and the sets are elaborate. There are always a few random celebrities who pop up out of nowhere. Even if I’m not thrilled with the music, I enjoy watching the choreography and intricacy of the staging. A lot goes into it.

When I went to my Super Bowl, the Rolling Stones were the act. They basically rolled out a big stage in the shape of their logo, played three songs, and were done. It was like an extended appearance on SNL.

The stage, from our end-zone vantage point.

It was still impressive to see all the work that went into setting up that stage on the field and then getting rid of it just as quickly. I can only imagine how tough it was to put up yesterday’s stage with the tall sugar cane and all the levels.

The rehearsals must have been extensive as well. Did you notice that it was mostly filmed by a single camera, which had to move backwards throughout the entire set to allow the star to be filmed head-on as he walked about the stage? That takes some practice for all involved. I was impressed.

One thing I wished they would have done is identify the people who made cameos. When Lady Gaga came on, I thought it might be her, but I wasn’t sure. I had no idea who the guy was (who turned out to be Ricky Martin), but I figured he was somebody. He just wasn’t someone I knew on sight. Would it be so bad to flash their names on the screen for a second or two?

But as for getting so butt-stung over a halftime show that you need to find an alternate show? That’s insane. Jesus H. Christ, just go to the can or get some snacks or something. It’s just not that big of a deal. Life goes on despite its little irritations. Maybe if some of us weren’t so used to getting our way on everything, we’d be better at coping with disappointment.

I think the president has his minions so programmed to feel they are obligated to be given whatever they desire that they don’t even see how unusual that is. So now it’s “Immigrants have deprived me of the halftime show I want to see!” From there, they get to claim “victimhood,” which is a basic tenet of being MAGA. Every controversy is a race to claim injury and demand retribution. It’s a tailor-made distraction from the ongoing Epstein whitewashing saga.

Also, if Puerto Rico is an American territory, can there really be Puerto Rican immigrants? Um, no. But they’re brown and speak another language, so MAGA can conveniently label them as “other,” and therefore a threat.

So, we survived another national event. Apparently, there wasn’t an onslaught of ICEholes at the stadium after all, so we were spared having to watch people being dragged off to parts unknown. Maybe the Administration figured that if they could afford the massive cost of the tickets, they must have money, which makes them HIS people. He’s probably looking into giving them tax cuts right now.

The Super Bowl LVII Viewing Experience

I still enjoy watching the Super Bowl and I don’t apologize for that. I’ve been a football fan since I was a young boy and still remember watching my first Super Bowl, number III. I was rooting for the Colts, not because I had anything against Joe Namath and the upstart AFL, but because I liked their bright blue uniforms better than the Jets’ white and green ones. I mean, I was seven, that’s all I had to go on.

Obviously, it wasn’t the big deal then that it is today, which is practically a national holiday. So much money changes hand over this one football game, it boggles the mind. (Now more than ever, with the ubiquitous sports book apps running full steam ahead.)

So I sat down last night, stiff drink in hand, to take in the experience so I could tell you what I thought about it. And please note, this will be about the general watching experience, not a breakdown of the game. I figure anyone who would care already knows all about it.

I didn’t really have a dog in this fight. My Steelers were not involved, nor were any of our “arch-enemies” or inter-division foes. I enjoy watching Patrick Mahomes and the Chiefs so I was rooting for them. But I picked the Eagles to win. I had them in mind to pick right after the conference championships, then changed my mind Sunday morning when our local paper’s sports columnists were split 3-3 on picking the winner. The Pro-Chiefs trio, which includes the guy with the best picking record among them, made some convincing arguments. These are the guys I mentally compete against. I don’t have any money on the game, I just make picks for shits and giggles and try to outdo our local “experts.”

But then later, every single pre-game show host on Fox Sports picked the Eagles. So I figured I’d go back to my original pick and went with Philly. I made my “pick” official by telling Sweetpea. She then invoked the “no take-backs” clause, so I was locked in.

So then, onto the game… eventually. Man, do they ever drag this stuff out. I am so done with all the flag hype and national self-reverence. The NFL spares no opportunity to entwine itself with patriotism and the military. Geez, it’s just a football game. A big one, but still a game. Get on with it.

Babyface did a nice job with America the Beautiful. I think THAT should be the national anthem. But only Ray Charles version. Chris Stapleton did the longest and slowest version of the Star Spangled Banner I’ve ever heard. He wasn’t missing out on his time in the spotlight, was he? I presume the sports books were taking bets on the length. I should have bet the “over.”

And then just when you think it’s time to play a little ball, they start with another clip package, about the Pat Tillman scholarships. Just more ways to wrap the NFL in the flag. I think Tillman would have been appalled at being used this way. When he was alive he wanted nothing to do with hyping his military service. Maybe they should play some clips of how he got killed by friendly fire and the Army bent over backward to cover it up.

Eventually, they began the game and next thing you know, it was time for the much-ballyhooed Super Bowl commercials. I had some thoughts, courtesy of my iPhone Notes app.

·         Dunkin’ Donuts, showing Ben Affleck working at a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru (for some reason) . Ben looked about engaged in this commercial as he did at the Grammys. I got a laugh when JLo rolled up, wondered why he was there (much like me), and then said, “Bring me a GLAZED.”

·         Avocado ad where Anna Faris wonders what it would be like if Eve ate an avocado instead, sparing the world from original sin, and clothing. Interesting idea, but it didn’t seem like it went anywhere though.

·         Ooh yeah! New Indiana Jones movie coming out. I bet Harrison Ford’s stunt double gets a real workout.

·         Serena Williams for Remy Martin. This one bugged me because I spent the entirety of the commercial wanting to know what the product was. At the very end, it’s Remy Martin. I’m like “what does all this hoo-ha have to do with cognac? There were a lot more spots like these to come… It’s like, “Here’s an A-list celebrity talking and doing stuff. Boy, we really spent a lot of dough on this ad buy. Oh by the way, here’s the product. And out…”

·         Bradley Cooper and his moms with outtakes from a T-Mobile commercial. They should have done the straight commercial first and then later, ran the outtakes commercial. Would have made more sense.

·         I thought the spot with the giant talking Stallone boulder was funny, but again, I was straining to find the point. I guess it was for the Paramount streaming service or something.

·         In the first of some recurring ads, Michelob Ultra decided to remake Caddyshack, with stunt casting. Great idea on paper, I guess. Anytime you can reference Caddyshack during a sports broadcast, it’s guaranteed to carry universal recognition among guys. (I loved the movie, and I don’t even golf.) There’s Serena again. And Tony Romo as the Bill Murray character fit right in.

·         The Adam Driver commercial for “Websites making Websites.” The thought behind this seemed to be, “Let’s get a celebrity and surround him with eye-popping special effects that’ll make all the drunks’ heads explode.”

·         Will Ferris for electric vehicles… more A-Listers slumming for dough.

·         Diddy for Uber. Same thing. All heat, no message.*

*I came to understand later that several hip-hop all-stars were also in that spot, which included songs for which they were famous. Obviously, I am not the target audience for this ad. No wonder I had no idea what was going on. It totally had nothing to do with my vodka and tonics.

·         Amy Schumer (briefly) in the Google phone pic ad highlighting the ease of editing things out of pictures that don’t belong there, like exes. I liked the idea but then it kind of drifted.

·         Animals doing the Electric Slide in a Jeep commercial. “Hey, look what we can do with SFX! Now buy a Jeep.”

·         The (Jon) Hamm and Brie (Larsen) ad for mayo was cute. But then they add Pete Davidson, for no apparent reason other than to pad their lineup with another star.

We interrupt this blog for a note on the game. My note was “Mahomes hurt before the half. That’s (the end of the) game (for the Chiefs).” I believed that if Mahomes stayed out, the Chiefs would never be able to hang with the Eagles.  They were barely staying in it WITH Mahomes, even after benefiting from an interception return for a touchdown.

·         Dorito triangles. This was my favorite one of the night. Finally, something funny and on point. I hope they keep running this one.

·       The Blue Moon ad, is awfully daring to feature Coors Light and Miller Lite and only bring in your own product in the last two seconds. Again, I was sitting there wondering why there would be a commercial for both Coors and Miller together. I’m not sure they thought this one through.

Halftime! Excuse me, I meant the “Jeep Halftime,” which included the “Apple Halftime Show.” Now they’re just double-dipping. How many sponsors can you have for the same time period?

Halftime

·         The halftime show: Again, I am certainly not the target audience for Rihanna. I’ve never heard a single song she did during the show.

·         I did like her staging… thought it was a good idea to use some of the vertical space in such a cavernous stadium. No one ever thinks to work “upward.” I didn’t like that she was lip-syncing. I say if you’re a serious musical act, get out there and sing your songs.

·         The dancers were surely working hard. I appreciate how much work it must’ve taken to get that choreography together. There must have been a hundred dancers, at least.

·         The diamonds in the sky effect with the lights… we did that at Super Bowl 40 when they provided little squeezy flashlights. Today they probably just use their cell phones

·         In recent years, they seem to have given halftime over to pop and hip hop. I yearn for the day when they bring back some rock-n-roll. I lucked out in the Super Bowl I attended, the Rolling Stones were the halftime show. Just breathing the same air as Keith Richards will add 3 years to your life.

But in particular, AC/DC needs to play the Super Bowl halftime show. Sure, they’re past their prime now, but so is their main audience. Angus Young still rocks harder in his 60s than anyone else out there.

On to a few 2^nd half ads

·         Breaking Bad chip ad was good and at least made sense. I’m really going to have to binge-watch Breaking Bad sometime. I’d probably like it.

·         I liked the Kia ad with the Dad looking for his kid’s binky. (Not that one, the other one.) Total slice of life for a family man. Although if I were making this ad, it would have been for vodka.

·         I also liked the Crown Royal/thank you Canada/Dave Grohl ad, although it took a while to reveal the product. Yes, thank you, Canada, for providing a nice counterpoint to all the hyper-Americanism. And hockey.

·         The Roast of Mr. Peanut was a great idea, and almost made me want to scan the QR code and watch the extended clip. Almost.

·         I loved the Workplace/Rockstar ads, which were clever and very well done. As a disclaimer, I should probably admit that as Joan Jett’s biggest fan, I would think anything she’s in is awesome, by default. But Ozzy was pretty good in it too. Now that’s one for which they should show the outtakes.

·         I had a problem with the Dodge Ram EV commercial because it seemed counterproductive. They reel off all the perceived faults of electric cars and then basically tell you to go look up the real facts at the end of the commercial. As if anyone is going to remember to do that. They’ve just been sent away with subconscious reminders of every Koch Brother-supported anti-EV meme. Not helpful.

·         The Busch/Sarah McLachlan animal commercial parody was inspired. “Sarah, that’s a wolf!”

·         Who knew Jesus was going to start buying ad time? There was a Jesus commercial in the first half, showing lots of cuteness and hugging children, while the 2^nd half spot consisted of still shots of people screaming at each other. The tagline was, “Jesus loves the people we hate.” What I want to know is… Who the hell is the “we?” And who is it that “we” are supposed to hate? I thought this was the ugliest commercial of the night. And most other nights.

·         I would watch a reality show starring Snoop and Martha Stewart. I can’t believe that hasn’t happened yet.

And that was the last of the relevant commercials. There was some game left though. This turned out to be a real barn burner. Philly had just tied the game at 35, but the Chiefs were driving with about two minutes left when the controversial moment of the game arrived. Philly was called for defensive holding, which gave the Chiefs a first down inside the 20. They were already in field goal range, but now they could burn most of the time left and kick the field goal with under 10 seconds, which they did.

The announcers seemed to have the opinion that they shouldn’t call such a penalty at a critical point of the game. Granted, the violation was hardly flagrant, but it was still a clear call. I say you can’t just turn off the rules when it’s crunch time. That just ensures everyone will try to take liberties when the game is on the line. If you would make the call on the first play of the game, you should make it on the last as well. I have no sympathy for the ref whiners. Even the guy that the penalty was called on said, “Yeah, I held him. I just hoped they’d let it slide.”

I’m sorry, if it’s a penalty then call it a penalty, regardless of the situation because the rules of the rules should not be situational.

So, the Chiefs won 38-35 in an entertaining game. I hope my guys get a turn next year, but we’ll see. And now, hockey gets my undivided attention.

Deja Blue

To the surprise of exactly no one, it happened again. Just like it always does. Lather, rinse, repeat. Police kill a guy, people get inflamed and call for change, and it happens again. It’s happened enough over the last decade or so that I’ve written about it 43 times before, according to the “Police Stories” label on my Label Cloud on the right. This is the 44^th time. What does one even say anymore?

So, five cops from a special “Scorpion” squad chased a guy down on a traffic stop for reckless operation, and just beat the guy to death. Five guys punched, kicked, and tased an unarmed man until he lay there unconscious and eventually died. According to the police chief, they’re not even sure there WAS any reckless op. Why five cops from a specialized unit were pursuing some rando in the first place is another question. I mean, don’t these “elite” teams have a higher list of priorities to pursue besides traffic violations?

I’m suspect of all of these “elite” teams that are separated from the rest of the rank and file. (The brilliant Lawyers Guns and Money blog is on the same wavelength.) I think it’s human nature for those placed in small groups with increased power to let it go to their heads. Hell, just look at HOAs. I guarantee there are people in your HOA who would just LOVE to curb stomp anyone who lets their grass grow too high or has non-standard pavers making up their walkway. But they don’t have the cover of law enforcement protecting their actions.

Baltimore is famous for its “Gun Trace Task Force,” which created the need for a Consent Decree and spawned the HBO mini-series/docu-drama “We Own This City.” This was a unit assembled to get guns off the streets but quickly devolved into a renegade band who robbed drug dealers (and anyone else they found with more than pocket change), kept the money, planted evidence and guns at crime scenes, and arrested anyone who had the nerve to complain. And all the while, they were padding their paychecks with unworked overtime to an obscene degree.

The Memphis police chief disbanded this Scorpion unit over the weekend and we’re already watching how these five officers are being singled out for 100% of the blame. The problem is that this “civilians as blood enemies” culture doesn’t grow out of thin air; that’s why these incidents keep happening. The recruitment, training, and supervision of the nation’s police units need a top to bottom overhaul. I guarantee it never happens, for the same reason that every other systematic injustice remains: because the people with money want it the way it is. Hardcore policing keeps the riffraff at bay. It’s not their problem if they get the crap kicked out of them. It’s their own fault for not being born into wealth.

Of course, Fox “News” is leading the way with headlines like this:

“Lowered standards,” right beside pictures of the five Black cops. Tell us what you really think the problem is, Fox! Maybe their point is that White cops would have known to turn their body cameras off before beating someone to death. Silly savages.

The racists love Black-on-Black violence because then they get to sit back and cluck over it all, knowing that whichever party is in the wrong, a Black person gets the blame.

RIP

It is with a lead-heavy heart that I read of the passing of Annie Wersching, who I adored. She played many notable roles but came to my attention when she co-starred in two seasons of “24,” as Special Agent Renee Walker, FBI badass, and eventual love interest of Jack Bauer. And here I thought it was bad when her character was killed off. She died of cancer at 45. Forty-freakin-FIVE!

This is what I wrote in this very blog, back in 2010, when her character was whacked:

“Sometimes it really sucks following shows like 24 and last night was one of those times.  Just when you think things are going well… Jack finally gets a moment’s peace and gets to do some belly rubbin’ with yummy FBI Agent Renee Walker.

“All looks good, but deep down, you know that there are still six more episodes to come, so something else has to happen.  Then… BAM.  Sniper fire.  Agent “Freckles” is down, wearing nothing but a bed sheet.

“You would think having sex with Jack Bauer would make a girl bulletproof.

“So I’m bummed.  No more looking into the haunted eyes of our Agent Walker. She’s been my favorite part of the last 2 seasons.  I know it’s stupid to get upset about a freakin’ TV show.  I know that right afterward, someone yells, “Cut!” and everyone gets up and grabs some coffee and a donut.  But why let reality encroach on the story?  You can’t help but get drawn in when you follow a story over time.  While the show is rolling, you start to see these characters as real people.  What’s the point of watching a drama if you don’t suspend disbelief?

“The skeptic can come out after the credits roll.”

So there’s no real-life buffer with this loss. This one hurts.

On the flip side, I can offer a happy “RIP” to the Cincinnati Bengals Super Bowl hopes, after their loss yesterday to the Chiefs. Once again, they lost in part because they couldn’t keep themselves from committing stupid personal fouls. They’ve handed the Steelers at least two such wins in past years. Now they’re spreading the love.

And thank you to the Chiefs! Your win keeps me from having to root for a Philadelphia team, and that’s always a winner in my book.

Francophiles

This is an off-cycle post and far from my usual topic of our culture wars and political nonsense. This one is personal and sports-related. If you’re looking for my usual weekly post, just scroll down to Monday’s publishing.

***

It was with a heavy heart, that I read of the death of Franco Harris, who reportedly died at home Tuesday night. No cause of death was reported as of this writing.

As you may have inferred from my sidebar and the color motif here, I’m a Pittsburgh sports fan. I was born in The ‘Burgh, to two lifelong Pittsburghers. Even though we moved away when I was about seven, our roots, as well as most of our extended families, are still there.

No matter where we lived, from Chicago to Columbus, to Toledo, we were always a Pittsburgh family. As a little kid, I liked football well enough but didn’t really follow it very closely. I’d watch the occasional game with my dad, just to be doing the same thing he was.

The first year I really started identifying as a Steelers fan was 1972, when we lived in Columbus, OH. I turned 11 during that football season and started following the players I liked and watching their position in the standings. You have to remember that football wasn’t nearly as pervasive as it is now. There were only two games on TV every Sunday, (Three really, but two of them were on at the same time, so you had to choose.) There was no Thursday night or Sunday night football, and Monday Night Football had only just begun. There was no ESPN or NFL channel. So because this wasn’t a local team for us in Ohio, we had to work to keep up to date.

The Steelers had never won a playoff game, not only during my dad’s lifetime but going all the way back to their origination in 1933. But they seemed like a much better team that year and their big rookie running back Franco Harris was making a lot of headlines.

I remember watching that playoff game against Oakland down in our little TV den. It was a tense, low-scoring game. When Raiders quarterback Kenny Stabler ran for a 30-yard touchdown late in the game, it looked like it was set up to be another disappointment in a long line of such disappointments.

Then, on 4^th and long, with but a few seconds remaining, the “Immaculate Reception” occurred. You know what it is by now.

As Franco rumbled into the end zone, my dad made the loudest noise in the history of noises, like it was 30 years of beat-downs avenged in one play. At that same time, my friend from next door was coming up our steps to the front door, right outside the den. He was probably on his way to give me shit about my team losing. He later told me it sounded like someone started up a giant vacuum cleaner inside.

That play eliminated any chance that I would ever drop my allegiance and root for another team. I mean, I was an impressionable young boy and this was a miracle, right before my eyes, right there on our little 24” TV screen.

Every time someone runs a national poll on the NFL’s greatest play, the Immaculate Reception always wins, not just because of the sheer unrealism, but because of what it started.

That play was the spark that lit the fuse. The Steelers went on to lose their next playoff game to the eventually perfect Miami Dolphins. But two seasons later, the Steelers won their first Super Bowl and went on to win four championships in six years. It was a tremendous time to be a young Steelers fan. That 1972 playoff game reset the expectations of the entire fan base and that’s something that remains today. It also boosted the spirits of a town that had been run down and gave it the kick it needed to come roaring back to life. It’s not for nothing that there is a statue of Franco in the Pittsburgh airport, eternally snatching that football away from the turf.

Since, as I said, we didn’t live in Pittsburgh during any of this, we never had much of a chance to mix with the players, at store openings, restaurants, or bars. But, as I’ve written before, we used to go to Cleveland every year to see the Steelers/Browns game and stayed at the same hotel the Steelers used. It was always bedlam, as it seemed half of Pittsburgh was there as well. There was a party in every room. That’s where we had this Franco sighting.

Franco, running the gauntlet

Franco with “Mean” Joe Green. Too much Hall of Fame for one hallway.

I also briefly ran into him one more time. I was on a plane home from Baltimore after visiting my parents, and as I shuffled onto the plane, there was Franco sitting in the last row in first class. And when you see a face like his, there's no mistaking him for anyone else. 

Not wanting to make a fuss, I caught his eye and gave him a nod and a half-smile. He nodded back. At first, I was like, “WTF is HE doing here?” But then I remembered that he was a co-owner of a sausage business located in Baltimore, so he was probably doing the same thing I was, going home.

By all accounts, Franco was one of the good guys; always generous with his time and money, a true member of the community, and the bedrock of Steeler Nation.

It’s such a shame that his death came only three days before his number was to be retired at the Steelers/Raiders game this weekend, with 50,000+ yinzers all set brave the elements to honor him. The Steelers will no doubt be using this as fuel to beat the Raiders, for Franco.

And somewhere, I’m sure Raiders owner Mark Davis is thinking, “Dammit, that guy just screwed us again!”

Rest in peace, Paisan. 

Homeless Thoughts - The Outraged Edition

 It looks like they’ve finally wrapped up the Canadian “Truckers” blockade that was sealing off our border bridge. It’s about time. From all accounts, they were not gracious visitors.

But you wouldn’t know it judging from conservative memes. They were downright giddy about this action, which had Canadian truck drivers protesting Canada’s “draconian” COVID protocols. You know, like get your shots, wear your masks, and try not to spread the infection to everyone you meet as you drive across the country. I saw lots of things like this:

It’s funny how the people I saw posting this stuff were the same people who were having aneurysms over BLM protests. Those people (who were protesting getting killed in police custody for minor offenses) were just a bunch of lawless criminals, with no right to block traffic.

Gee, I wonder what the difference is between the two groups of protesters. I just wonder…

More Outrage

The same person that posted the first pic above also posted this:

I’d hate to break it to him but as usual, there’s a simple answer to his issue. There is more Rogan outrage because Ghislaine Maxwell has been tried, convicted, and is in jail for the foreseeable future. And the principal offender in this case? He’s stone-dead. So there’s not much left to be outraged about, is there? Everything’s handled.

I’m perfectly happy for the government to investigate all passengers on the Epstein Shuttle and let it go wherever it goes. But I’m pretty sure the MAGAs are going to want to stop the presses when the investigation rolls into Mar-a-Lago, to follow up on at least a dozen pictures of TFG with Jeffrey and Ghislaine.

The Rogan thing is still unfolding and looking increasingly serious after a video compilation surfaced of old Joe’s looseness with a certain word that starts with “N.” And then just as suddenly, a whole slew of his podcasts have just “disappeared.”

Have you noticed how no one is putting forth that the video was doctored and he didn’t really say all those things? It’s funny how the “smoking gun” videos proffered by Republicans always turn out to be selectively edited, stripped of context, or otherwise doctored into something other than the truth. I haven’t seen anything analogous from the Dems. They seem to keep coming up with the real deal. That’s what happens when one side deals in reality and the other has to create an environment of its own liking, just to keep their Ponzi Scheme ideology intact.

Even More Outrage

Thank you, Republican National Committee, for creating the phrase “Legitimate Political Discourse,” to describe the events of 1/6/21. I love that this is coming from the Republican “establishment,” and not the usual wingnuts who can be written off as the lunatic fringe. This came from the mainstream GOP.

Now it becomes the Democrats’ job to make them wear this around their necks until November. Every candidate should have a commercial asking if storming the Capitol, ransacking the offices, and assaulting and killing police officers in an attempt to overturn a valid-by-every-legal-standard election, counts as “legitimate political discourse.” They should run pictures like this constantly:

Republicans need to be shown as the party of political extremists trying to seize power by any means necessary, which is most certainly NOT the “American Way.” We do not stage coups in America and that’s exactly what the riot on 1/6 was.

Local Outrage

Back in 2019, when Chicago elected Lori Lightfoot as their first Black female mayor, I wrote a post with words of caution that merely checking statistical boxes for race, gender, and sexual orientation did not guarantee clean, effective leadership. I pointed out that Baltimore’s last three mayors had been Black women and all three left office under a cloud or an indictment. Now there’s another local scandal, this time involving our State’s Attorney, Marilyn Mosby.

If you’ve heard of her, it’s probably because she took center stage in prosecuting the cops in the Freddie Gray case, the one that caused days of riots here in Baltimore.

Well, it seems she filed a request to withdraw money from her 401k without penalty, as allowed as small business relief to compensate for losses due to COVID. The problem was that she had no business and her career income hadn’t suffered in the least. In fact, she was awarded a $10,000 raise on her annual salary.

She did have two businesses set up but it was on paper only. There were no actual businesses there to lose money. No building, no payroll, no service, no staff, no nothing. So there were no losses there to be a basis of compensation. That’s illegal. There are also issues with fraudulent statements on her loan application.

When all this came to light, she went right to the typical excuses of the day, that this was a political witch hunt from her enemies, and that she was innocent of all charges.

But the thing is, the Feds don’t bring charges like this unless they have you dead to rights. No doubt they’ve seen her paperwork claiming financial hardship. They know she withdrew the money and what she spent it on. (Property in Florida.)

So it’s true that her prosecution might very well be executed by political enemies, of which she made a lot. Prosecuting the Freddie Gray cops was a big part of it. And she also made public that there was a list of Baltimore cops that her staff could not use to testify in court because they were considered unreliable witnesses, due to investigations into their professional misbehavior.

She’s also decreed that her department would not be prosecuting cases of marijuana possession and wanted police to direct their effort to harder drugs and violent crime.

Now, I’m all for all of those things, but the police department is NOT on her side.

She’s also married to a guy who became City Council President, meaning she wields outsized influence over city government.

But the mere fact that her enemies are after her doesn’t mean she’s not guilty. If she’s so worried about people gunning for her, then why on earth hand them something so easily provable, right there on a silver platter? If people are trying to take you down, keep your nose clean! Is that really so difficult?

I swear, I’m amazed by the degree to which politicians think they can hide things. This stuff always comes out, eventually.

More Local Outrage

I enjoyed watching the Super Bowl last night and was looking forward to the analysis in this morning’s paper. But alas, there was none. The game ended too late to make the morning paper.

When they say newspapers are dying, it seems to be a self-fulfilling prophesy. The game was over by 10:00 PM (Eastern), so it’s not like it went into the wee hours. They should have held space for what they knew would be a big story with high interest and provided at least cursory coverage. Sure, they refer readers to their website, but if I wanted to go there, I wouldn’t have a paper delivered in the first place. It’s like they’re just begging me to cancel my subscription.

Note from the Next Day: Tuesday morning's paper featured one local opinion piece on the Rams' coach and an AP piece on how they built their team this year. Not a word about the actual game.

While I didn’t have a dog in this Super Bowl fight, I was rooting for the Rams. There were a couple of reasons:

·        Cooper Kupp was very good to me in fantasy football this year. So was Matthew Stafford, to a lesser degree.

·        I’m a Steelers fan and I'll never root for division rivals.

·        And even more pointedly, I will never root for any team whose fans have threatened, harassed, or attacked me when I’ve been in their stadium. (Basically just for being there, wearing the visiting team’s jersey.) I never want to see their fans be happy. I want them to question their self-worth constantly.

Natural Segue into a Dad Story

I totally get it from my Dad. Back when I was a kid, sometimes the Browns and Bengals would be playing each other and neither team winning would provide an advantage to the Steelers. I’d ask Dad who he’s rooting for and he’d say, “I’m rooting for a 0-0 tie with lots of career-ending injuries.”

I’m pretty sure he was kidding but it taught me to take division play seriously.

The Days of Road Trips Past

I got to do something last weekend I haven’t done in ages… go on a football road trip. My brother and I traveled to Columbus OH to see the Buckeyes play the Michigan State Spartans. Our family has been taking football road trips since I was a kid; it’s just something we do. The ‘Rona has put the kibosh on that recently so it was nice to get out again.

Flying is still a pain but masks abounded, both in airports, planes and at our destination. In Columbus, if not all of Ohio, mask rules are strict, so we were masked up in any public areas unless we were outside.

It was a great trip and I was glad to spend some quality time with my brother. Given our proximity, living about 15 minutes from each other, we don’t hang out as much as we could. Now that we’re both active in caring for our mom, we’re getting together more often.

I’m not going to get into a bunch of football details, but I would be remiss if I didn’t at least post the biggest highlight from our game experience, for which we had a stellar vantage point.

The grandeur of the Ohio State Marching Band’s “Script Ohio.” The dotting of the “I” comes at 2:50.

In pre-COVID days, our family would take a road trip to see Pittsburgh Steelers away games every year or two, depending on where they played. When your family is scattered across several states, it’s a good way to get together for a fun weekend. On this trip, it reminded me of when we started all this, back in the late 70s. We lived in Northwest Ohio and would travel to Cleveland to see the Steelers play the Browns. I posted about it a long time ago and thought it might be fun to revisit.

(Again, this is about the experience, not actual football. Fandom not required.)

The first year we went, 1979, it was a small affair. My dad took me and my brother and sister. We drove out, went to the game, then drove home. This is still the most memorable of the games we attended because the Steelers won that one 51-35. The game featured 2 long runs, one by Franco Harris and one by Rocky Blier, right into our end zone.

We had such a good time, we decided to make it an annual event, and hey, why not take some friends?

We started by bringing a couple of the neighbor girls to the game in 1980. By 1985, Dad was ordering 30 tickets from the Browns ticket office. He’d phone in his order on the day they went on sale and with a seating capacity of over 77,000 people in that butthole of a stadium, he never had a problem getting however many he wanted. It also helped that back then, they were only about $20 a pop. Granted, the seats were usually lousy… low in the end zone… but hey, we were in the house.

Now, going to the game was fun, but the Saturday before became what the weekend was all about.

Black and Gold Star Hotel

The second year we went out, Dad decided we should go on Saturday and stay at the Marriott on I-71. Nice rooms, nice pool and whirlpool, and convenient freeway access. What we didn’t know until we got there was that the Steelers themselves stayed there too. Consequently, the place was jammed packed with Steelers fans. And remember who was playing for the Steelers back then… All the legends were there… Lynn Swann, Stallworth, Terry Bradshaw, Franco Harris, Rocky Blier, Jack Lambert … You couldn’t turn around without running into a Hall of Famer.

Around Pittsburgh, this might not be a big deal.  But this was 1980 and we lived in northwest Ohio.  We never got to see these guys at places like store openings or around town.  It was a luxury if we could see them on TV.  Seeing these guys up close was a very big deal to us.

Through the years, we got our act down to a science. Our convoy would roll in Saturday afternoon and we’d check-in, requesting adjoining rooms where possible. Once in the rooms, the first order of business would be to ice down the 8-10 cases of beer we’d bring.

We found that the bathtub was best for this. Here’s a tip if you ever find yourself in such a situation: First, forget about using the tiny little ice bucket. Grab trash cans. Then raid the ice machines one floor above and one floor down. That way, you still have ice for screwdrivers at the tailgate on Sunday morning. You then lay down one layer of beer bottles, then a layer of ice, another layer of bottles, and so forth until you have this:

Once the beer was iced, we’d get into our swimsuits and go take over the pool area. The Marriott had a great pool, with big glass windows dividing it from an entrance hallway. It was so cool, during those December games, to be in there swimming and looking at the snow blowing outside.

Eventually, the Steelers bus would appear and we could see them getting their room keys from the pool area. One year, they had the table set up right in front of the pool window. Each player had a little card on the table with his room number. Which we could see. Man, we got a lot of autographs THAT year… And Marriott never set up like that again.

One year, we actually had rooms on the same floors that the Steelers did. They were restricting access to the players’ floors by then, but they had to let us in, obviously. I remember my sister took a used fork from Lynn Swann’s room service tray after he set it outside. She kept it in a baggie for years after, I think.

So after the Steelers bus arrived, we would all set out to look for players to get pictures and autographs. I didn’t really autograph hunt that much… I figured I was too grown for that, but I did take pictures where I could. Now my brother was the Autograph Master. He’d have a big stack of Sports Illustrateds and Steelers Digests under his arm and upon spotting a player, could always pull something out with their picture on the cover.

The elevators were a great place to player-watch. Plus, if you jumped in the elevator right before the doors closed like my brother did when a player got on, you’d have a slam dunk autograph opportunity.

Art Rooney Sr. was still around back then and was always willing to sign for the kids, even to the point of aggravating his son Dan. One time he was signing for a little group of kids, with Dan Rooney, his wife, Coach Chuck Noll and his wife waiting for him so they could go have dinner. Dan called to him to get a move-on, but The Chief wouldn’t budge until he’d signed for everyone.

No one hurries The Chief.

A Quick Detour

In September of 1981, my Dad took my brother and me out of school for a couple days to go with him down to Miami. He was there on business, but there just "happened to be" a Steelers that Thursday night game against the Dolphins. Again, we stayed in the same hotel as the Steelers. (Amazingly, back then you could just call the Steelers office and someone would tell you where they were staying. Try that nowadays…)

For this hotel trip, all the Steelers were there, but practically no other Steelers fans. We basically had the whole team to ourselves. The Steelers were just lying around the pool outside, hanging out.

My brother approached one klatch of players, Bennie Cunningham, John Stallworth, Donnie Shell, and Mel Blount. He asked, “Could I please take your picture?”

Bennie said, “Knock yourself out, baby.”   This is what he got:

L-R Cunningham, Hall of Famers Stallworth, Shell, and Blount.

Sometime that afternoon, we struck up a conversation with punter Craig Colquitt and rookie kicker Dave Trout. We told them about how much different the scene in Cleveland was and said we’d see them there.

Back to Cleveland

So that November, there we were in the Cleveland Marriott, and there was Colquitt and Trout again. My dad finagled an invitation to come up to their room to hang out, so up we went, about a dozen of us crammed into the players’ room.

Colquitt standing to the left, Trout in the gold sweatshirt, with our crew. Love the old Instamatic C110 camera!

Clubbing

Once it got to be evening, we'd all head to the hotel’s bar. They always had either a DJ and dance floor or a band playing. Dad was very proficient at getting lots of underage kids into the place too. “This is my daughter too,” he’d say as he breezed another one through the doors. The youngsters weren’t drinking in there anyway, (there was more than enough beer in the room), but we and the other Steelers fans that had taken over the place laughed and chanted and danced the night away.

Dad, cutting up the floor with the kids.

We’d usually have at it until the wee hours and just before we wore ourselves out, we’d walk next door to the Denny’s beside the hotel. God, that was just perfect! Nothing like that late-night Grand Slam breakfast before bed. Then we’d retire to our rooms and collapse in beds, on floors, couches, pretty much any horizontal surface.

The next morning, always too early, we’d muster to watch the Steelers get on the bus. It was the last chance to wish our heroes well. People would line the hallway leading to the side door where the busses were, pressing forward as the players walked by. Except for Lambert. When Jack Lambert went by with his game face on, everyone just stayed back and went, “Have a nice game, Mr. Lambert.” Jack was always pumped up for the Browns game because he was from the area and they didn't draft him.

He was also a stickler for manners. Heaven help the kid that said to him, “Gimme your autograph,” or “Hey, sign this.”

Jack would bark, “I will NOT. Until you ask me politely.”

The kid would stammer, “Could I have your autograph, please?”

Jack would say, “Yes you may,” and then sign for him.

That’s my brother getting Jack’s autograph when we were in Miami, after asking politely.

In the early years, we’d tailgate down at the Stadium parking lot. And it was always miserable out on Steelers/Browns day. Rain, sleet, snow, freezing rain… if it wasn’t ugly, it wasn’t Cleveland.

Posing in front of Cleveland Municipal Butthole Stadium

In later years, (early 90’s) we started tailgating in the Marriott parking lot. Was much easier that way, and we’d have that ice handy for our screwdrivers. Geez, Dad used to make them in these 32 oz. paper cups. That woke your ass up in a hurry. We’d grill and drink and throw the ball around, then take the subway down to the stadium.

We usually sat low in the closed end zone. Sometimes we’d be far enough back to be under the overhang, but other times not. The problem with sitting so low is that you have no perspective on the action. A play could gain 2 yards or 15, and you just couldn’t tell until they posted the yard line on the scoreboard. And remember, this was before the giant replay scoreboards. All you had to watch was the actual game.

Lambert brings his defense onto the field.

We had seats in the open end zone once, back before it became the Dawg Pound. It was still pretty rough though, even then. You also had to be careful not to go into the restrooms alone, wearing Steelers gear. People got jumped in there or on the concourses all the time.

Even during day games, it was always dark in Cleveland. 

Sneaking liquor into the game was always a fun pastime. For the late-year games, we always brought brandy in little plastic hip flasks. They searched you coming in, but if you put the flask down the front of your pants, they never checked there. Dad had the greatest trick of all… his Bar-Noculars. In other words, it was a 2-sided flask that looked like a pair of regular binoculars. Each eyepiece screwed off and the booze was inside the core. He’d walk right up to the security people to be frisked, with the Bar-Noculars around his neck, put his arms out, and just smile.

One particularly raw day, I killed one of the flasks of brandy by myself. I tried to share around, but no one else wanted any. I nursed it all game and never felt the slightest bit drunk. I never had to pee, so I never moved the whole game. So when it was over and I got up to leave… whoa Nelly…

Once my blood started moving all that alcohol around, I was in serious trouble. I barely made it out to the car. I sat there in the passenger seat, just kind of head bobbing. It was like the world kept flipping up and up and up. Dad asked me if I was OK. I said I thought my vertical hold was busted. (Those of you that remember the old TVs will get that reference.) That was a rough ride home but at least I made it without hurling. But the lesson was learned no hoggin’ the flask!

I look back on those times now and am just amazed. I mean, can you imagine something like these trips going on in 2021? Not even including the contagion issue. Dad was often the only adult on the trip. He would pay for the tickets and hotel rooms and there would be anywhere from 6 to 30 people, mostly under 18. Could you imagine being 16 or 17 today, and asking your parents: “Hey, I want to go with my friends, boys and girls, to a hotel 2 hours away for the weekend to go to a football game. We’re going to have a bathtub full of beer and tailgate with vodka screwdrivers in the morning. My friend’s dad will be the only chaperone. Can I go?

I think that would be a hard sell. But I can say that no one ever got hurt or in any kind of trouble, and we all had a blast. 

Director's DVD Commentary: Just in case you're wondering how a Steelers fan is also an Ohio State Buckeyes fan: Our family is originally from Pittsburgh, but we moved away when I was six, to various other cities across the Midwest, including four years in Columbus. That was during my formative years when I was in 6th through 9th grades. Our mom got her Master's degree there so my brother and I saw our first college games at "The Shoe," and have been Buckeyes ever since. But we also inherited our dad's enthusiasm for Pittsburgh sports, so we have always been Steelers, Penguins, and Pirates fans, wherever we lived.