The Colonel is a patient man. Advanced age does that to a person.
There was a time when he was the pure, living definition of the word: impatient. Back then the Colonel had time for neither physical nor philosophical dawdlers. You either got with his program or you turned in your Colonel's Club membership card and suffered disenfranchisement of any of the rights and privileges thereunto pertaining.
As you can imagine, the Colonel was a lonely man. The Colonel's Club was less a club and more a one-man band whose beat paced his marching only. But that didn't keep him from beating the drum loudly and expecting all within earshot to fall in line behind and get in step.
The vigor with which the Colonel wields his mallet has lessened over the years. And..., he doesn't care nearly as much about the fact that nobody is marching in step behind him. But, there have been some interesting additions to his parade of late -- stragglers stepping off the curb and closing the wide gap behind.
Take, for instance, the Colonel's stance on the National Football League. Now, football is the Colonel's favorite game. Right behind football on the Colonel's list of favorite games there's... Nope. That's it. It's football and nothing else.
Baseball? The Colonel would rather watch slug races.
Hockey? Yankee fistfight.
Soccer? Egregious waste of a football field.
Basketball? Nap time.
The Colonel believes that the game of football is a successful life's perfect metaphor. Teamwork. Controlled violence to achieve dominance over a likewise violent competitor. Combined arms approach to the battlefield. The muscle-memory value of repetitious training. Snap deviations when the plan isn't working. It's all there.
So, for the Colonel to completely stop watching the NFL nearly two decades ago... Well, that tells you a little something about what he feels about the situation.
The Colonel stopped watching professional football when it started becoming more about the players than the team. The Colonel despises Fantasy Football -- the root of all rot in the NFL, in his not-so-humble opinion.
And, now that the NFL has become more a showcase for petulant players' social justice (a term that is about neither the good of all society nor about real color-blind justice) platform, than about a city's or region's pride in it's TEAM, the trickle of disenchanted fans turning off the NFL has become a torrent.
The Colonel says, "Welcome aboard."
There's also something else the Colonel wants to say but he won't...
He shouldn't...
Wouldn't be polite...
Might upset somebody...
Oh, well. He can't restrain himself.
"What. Took. You. So. Long!!!"
Did you really believe -- twenty years ago -- that professional football would weather the glorification of individuals over team? That the NFL would be better for it? Really?
So, it actually took entire groups of individuals (can't really call what the NFL fields, teams, anymore) putting a rapist's name on their helmets and disrespecting the hundreds of thousands of American fighting men and women -- of all segments of the most diverse society on the planet -- whose mortal remains were honorably and respectfully covered by the flag during whose anthem they kneel, to make you walk away in disgust. Have you really not been disgusted before now? Really?
At some point in the not too distant future, our nation will be at war with a near-peer competitor who will pose a truly existential threat. The All Volunteer Force (actually the All Recruited Force -- there is a significant difference) that has provided forces with which our Republic's political leadership (the Colonel uses that term as loosely as a baby's diaper deposit) has dallied in limited objective (read: non-decisive) military adventures abroad over the past half century will not be sufficient for that fight. When real war comes to the heartland -- the fight with a near-peer competitor will see physical effects across the fruited plains -- every citizen and temporary resident of our Republic will suddenly find themselves deeply involved.
Think the Wuhan Virus pandemic has been disruptive? You ain't seen nuthin' that will compare to entire regions of our great nation engulfed in kinetic warfighting effects.
The NFL will cease to exist.
It already has, as far as the Colonel is concerned.
2 comments:
Ditto
It was odd that C 1/8 allowed to jump to H 2/8 with no questions asked of a PFC (I may have been an E-3--I wasn't much whatever I was and I was all about another summer Med so took the leap) but getting with the program I could still not do. I was told by H 2/8 or maybe it was C 1/8--it was on ship that much I remember, either the Iwo or the Nassau during my first eval. with one of the two CO's whoever it was "**** or get off the pot, son" was all it took the minute I walked in the door for the eval.--one look and the CO knew who he had on his hands--another barely-there. Like most, everything was about beer back then and it sucks that I see the Suck now as I didn't see it then. That if you didn't get with the folks on the top the system would not have you and I think it works that way in the military, too the same as it works with the .01-er's who own everything in the 1st Civ. Div.--real estate scum and their criminal pals in government. An E-5 stuck running Infantry Training School once mentioned during formation "I should have been a Staff Sergeant by now but I got a big mouth." He apparently bucked the system so paid for it the same as people do off-base. He was naturally, one of the coolest dudes, and in the Corps, too--he got busted permanently it seemed, as he busted open a wall-locker of my first roommate in H 2/8 who I swear never did a lick of work unless you count laying in the rack--I always tell USMC awe-struck civilians of these types, those who did precisely nothing despite all the work required of them, Lance Corporal Snooze then went UA altogether so someone called some maintenance shack and is how I saw the busted former-ITS E-5 once again with a pair of bolt cutters--I doubt he was doing a job he'd agreed to do. H 2/8 was also a better unit not because of "the Colonel," who may think no one listens to him anymore and I didn't then either--we used to laugh at the Pepsi-to-beer analogy but "Too many Pepsi's" was C 1/8's malady--people drank way too many Pepsi's and so did I, much more than we did beer (ha-ha). That would not occur to me though, until much later--why H 2/8 was much cleaner took awhile to sink in--I had also by that time got with the program much more than I had before in C 1/8.
H 2/8 was on main-side, not the 24/7 party-zone that Geiger was--like a cheap motel is to nearby businesses, much of what went on at Geiger should have been shut down long ago, so the Colonel was right there. I saw a huge difference between the two although we got just as hammered in H 2/8 as we did in C 1/8--booze, though, was harder to get to--it wasn't right across the street like dives were at Geiger. Getting drunk took some effort. The NFL has signified the system at its worst for some time for me; it's white-owned, by a few. Stand-up for yourself and/or for others and you're out of the game--the rapist's name on helmets I had to look-up. The system's got me--I'm at work so much I'm nowhere else but as far as team loyalty goes that's still there; I'm still a Redskins fan despite not seeing an actual game in so long and their record so poor if they're in the NFL anymore matters not aw
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