The Most Dangerous Game... ...of Chicken

Too much fiddling and diddling

So I'm at a basketball game the other day, and it's going all good and I'm drinking my Coca-Pepsi and enjoying the ambiance of a full house. A big section of the place seems to be cheering for the visitors. But we're all looking forward to seeing some good ball.


The players are introduced and the coaches are looking sharp in their suits and clipboards and ear-pieces and they and their assistant coaches and trainers and equipment managers and who-all else makes the whole event possible.


There's the security folks and the vendors and the maintanence crews - geez - I could go on for a good long time about all the folks getting done what needs to get done.


The packed arena is jacked and ready for a good game. The myriad rigamarole gets done and then a collective readiness is palletable as the crowd is asked to rise for the national anthem.


And, but for the slight buzz of those doing jobs that still have to be getting done even during this sacred ritual, and maybe a crying baby or two, the cohesive respect and attention is expected and indeed delivered, some folks with their team's hat placed reverently over their hearts, and others with a comportment that bespeaks their past or present military service, even as they are decked in sports event-appropriate attire, as they are ramrod straight and unblinking during the whole ceremony.


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The first stringers take the court, and the ref tosses the tip off. The game is on. They go up and down the court and do all the basketball stuff that this author is ill-equipped to describe but for shots, passes and fouls. But I still love the game - even if I don't know an illegal defense from a 3 second violation.


After awhile, things get sloppy - even to this amateur NON-athlete's perception. Then the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life happens. The home team stops playing and begins to argue with each other.


This one isn't doing his job. That one is being a ball hog. That one isn't putting in the effort. The other one's defense is "lazy and legless", and the accused shoots back that he doesn't see any hustle coming from "you, you gum-flapping wanna-be".


It's incredible. Now - the refs try to get the game back. The coach is fuming, but he's not allowed on the court itself. He calls a time-out but the players keep stalling and filibustering.


The refs are helpless, because the players aren't actually breaking any rules, technically. They're just arguing instead of playing the freakin' game. The visiting team is shooting and clearing and shooting and wracking up point after point after point - and it soon becomes apparent that this is one deficit the team will not overcome.


The crowd is booing - even that section of visitors' fans. They came - and PAID - to see a game. They came to see these highly paid athletes do a job and fight and get a good athletic display of skill, strategy and tradition in motion going. They paid to see these guys do their jobs.


The refs can't do anything about it - as technically, the game is still going on, and no rules are being broken. Just that the home team is dysfunctional and puerile and crazy-selfish. They aren't a team. They are individual players worried about their own asses. Their contracts and sound bites, ad deals and court time and "getting the ball".


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Wait. Woah. Oh, God. I'm so embarrassed. Readers - I'm wicked sorry - I got all that way messed up.


It wasn't a basketball game. It wasn't a team of ball players arguing and not getting the job done.


It was the American congress.


The game finished with an embarrassingly awful score. And the team was kicked out of the NBA and into the AA+ division.


The fans, who paid to see everyone do a particular job and do it well, watched as the embarrassment cost them some 75 bucks a seat to suffer through.


And that's only to pay the salaries of the people who promised to represent the people, and get the job done.


The coach - well - let's face it - whether it's George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, Richard Nixon, George Washington, Abraham Lincoln or Barack Obama - is a suit. He DECIDES the agenda, the plays, the vision. The gameplan. He leads. He doesn't play. The Constitution says exactly that. And Harvard alum and (student) president-emeritus of the Harvard Law Review, and subsequent professor of constitutional law at said ivy university, President Barack Obama knows a thing or two about the Constitution.


It's up to the players to execute. It's a damned shame when those players, be they red or blue, and who are supposed to be playing for the same Team America - instead give it a hell of a black eye, and all in the name of securing a failure they can then promise to "change".


They can then campaign against "an administration" that couldn't get it done. In the most selfish and droolingly greedy power grab this author has seen since that Eddie Murphy/Dan Aykroyd film, Trading Places, where two clods is suits tried to corner the orange market, this congress - at least the majority red portion of it - is completely abusing their majority power and is in fullout mutiny against the captain and the course he's trying to chart.


I for one am going to try like hell to keep the captain on. He's at least TRYING. Oh - some whiners - even his fellow blues - complained that he was too much in the sidelines. But damn it, President Obama is a constitutional scholar. He is of the executive branch. He is NOT allowed to shoot the ball.


Here's hoping that in 2012, he gets a crew, a team, that knows how to work together. I can only hope that he and we get to see the divas and the primadonnas, the snakes and the backroom smokers and weepers - walk the freakin' plank!


You can damned well bet that given half the chance - I'll be a shark in that water. At this moment, there are 312,025,455 of us, more than half of whom can barely afford to fill their bellies, and are very eager to feed.


We paid for the meal (your salaries). I'm looking forward to sucking every last morsel off of the bones.


Then I can go home, get back to work, and me and my.... now 312, 025, 481 fellow Americans can do the work to restore our economy, our health, our peace, and our global reputation - as well as our very way of life, that needs to get done. The work you were too busy arguing and "positioning" and politicking to get done.


Shame on you.


Mr. President, you have my vote in 2012, and my sincerest hopes that you also have a team of public servants who are willing serve America, and not their own disgusting, selfish, greedy, and downright despicable personal ambitions.


I believe in hope and change. Those who don't can kiss my ass and get outta town. Don't give up, President Obama. I'm not. I, for one do believe in the "hopey changey" stuff - and demand a congress that does so as well.


Here's hoping that all Americans get to collect from the congress every last dime and minute they wasted, and, like those two dimwits in the aforementioned movie who not only didn't play by the rules, but treating human beings like poker chips, we can throw them out on their asses, as broke as the rest of us are, so that Mr. Obama can get the business done that he promised, and has been swimming upstream for almost 3 years, to try and deliver.


Go git 'er done, Mr. President.




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