Sunday drive time ...
WE GO TO the polls Tuesday to decide who we will send to Congress as the next senator from Alabama, Roy Moore or Doug Jones. It is a choice that has our state in a glaring and ugly spotlight we don’t need ... but it’s there.
First of all, let me tell you I am not in the business of endorsing candidates for office. When it comes to politicians, I have a hard time finding one who really cares about me ... or you. That may not apply as much locally, but inside the Washington beltway you find me one who does care for me or you and I’ll vote for him/her 10 times even if it sends me to jail.
Now to Tuesday. ...
I’ll just mention again what I said a few weeks back, that anybody who thinks riding a horse, wearing a cowboy hat and twirling a pistol qualifies him to be my senator has another think coming ... a bunch of “thinks,” really.
That came before the first mention of sexual misdeeds with a 14-year-old girl. Others came forward, basically saying “the cowboy,” back in his 30s, liked teenage girls.
I’m not going to tell you that I really know if that’s true, I do know “the cowboy” lost my vote the first time he put on that cowboy hat. I quit “playing cowboy” when I was 8 years old. And the thought that a 70-year-old “cowboy” could be seen as what we are in Alabama ticks me off big time.
Finally, I am neither Democrat nor Republican. The mere thought that a group of people I’ve never met can gather in a fancy hotel somewhere and tell me what is best for my country just doesn’t ride with me. I am an independent. Socially, I’m pretty liberal. On the other side of the coin, I sort of favor cranking up the Enola Gay “and go get ’em.”
But in this case, I think Arizona Sen. Jeff Flake said a lot when he wrote (on a check):
“Country before party.”
Bottom line, it’s for you and me to decide.
I DID something Friday morning I thought was pretty neat.
There was a blanket of snow out front, the heat pump was humming out dollars for Alabama Power, but grabbed the blonde and, with a big hug, said:
“I love you. Merry White Christmas.”
Early morning is not her thing. That got me a jab in the ribs and:
“Go make the coffee.”
Which I did ... and sat out in the sunroom and watched it snow and thought of a white Christmas ... which we won’t get.
OK, HERE we go again. One team made it into the college playoffs, another one didn’t.
Alabama’s in, Ohio State is out, and the same tune you hear is “expand the playoffs.” You hear six teams, eight teams, even 16 teams.
All of that is flat out crazy.
You can call all that the same old dance, but I’m going with a “new tune” most haven’t even thought about.
All the uproar, the charges of favoritism, of unfairness, that expanding is the cure for it all.
People, the uproar is good for the game. Stop and consider that the playoff gets about twice the attention when one, maybe two, teams flat out “get cheated.”
It’s daily fare on TV, it’s daily stories in print, it fuels sports talk shows from coast to coast. You can’t buy that kind of attention.
Keep it at four ... and let’s get on with the “war of words” that keeps college football in the spotlight.
One other thought.
Football is a brutal and tough game. It’s not basketball, where you show up in a pair of shorts and an undershirt and play. Nor is it baseball, where you stand around for about 95 percent of the game.
College kids don’t need more football. There are classes to attend, degrees to earn for a living that will not be the NFL.
And, of course, there’s chasing the ladies. ...