Pro football is brutal by nature. Large men capable of great foot speed crash into each other violently. Players get hurt. Are there men who deliberately try to hurt others? The New Orleans Saints' bounty scandal proves it is true. I'm not surprised. When I coached high school ball we wanted our players to hit opposing ball carriers and receivers so hard that they would fumble or think about being slammed rather than concentrating on catching the ball. It is not hard to understand why pros, especially those at the lower end of the pay scale, would want to injure the opposition, chiefly its stars. The further a team goes in the playoffs, the more money and glory it earns. Still, the fact that the Saints offered players $1000 for each opponent taken out is despicable. The league minimum salary for a rookie in 2011 was $375,000, and the scale climbed up to $910,000 for players with 10+ years of service. No one is underpaid or desperate for cash. Today the commissioner suspended head coach Sean Payton for one year. I applaud him for applying consequences to such behavior.
Also on the NFL front: Rumor has it the Jets are trying to acquire Tim Tebow. This is great news for New York except for one factor - how will he fit in? Will he be solely an occasional Wildcat QB? As much as I'd love to see him in the Big Apple, I'd rather see him as a starter elsewhere. I don't understand the team's thinking. It seems they should be using that money to strengthen other areas.
Mike Gallagher played a clip on his radio show this morning of an Occupy Wall Street leader introducing Michael Moore in not so flattering terms as "The 50 million dollar man."
I saw Mr. Morty for the first time in months. As we were conversing, I spotted Political Man walking our way. I immediately conjured George Costanza saying "...worlds collide." Sure enough, the fireworks went off. Morty, a self made man who made a great living in sales and still travels about all day at 77, would have none of PM's leftist ranting. I stood there and laughed as Morty took him apart. But nothing would deter PM. He was in a great mood, returning from a score. This batch of pot was dubbed Thunder Kush. In minutes he would be in his own world.
It was another good day for the floating bookshop. The Merry Mailwoman bought three Janet Evanovich hardcover thrillers, Herbie bought Dorthy Uhnak's 1977 blockbuster The Investigation, which was turned into a Kojak TV movie. Mr. Almost purchased a Russian translation of the Ray Bradbury classic, The Martian Chronicles. And a couple gobbled up a mixed bag of six books. The only disappointment came from an attractive middle age woman, who said she'd buy A Hitch in Twilight on her way back from shopping. To my chagrin, she'd spent all her money, or so she said. Maybe she just thought twice about buying from a nut selling his books on the street.
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