The longest day of the year slipped through town last Friday and Saturday morning the earth began its long, slow journey into darkness. I mention this for the benefit of all you squirrel worshippers out there, as a reminder to begin gathering your nuts for the coming winter.
People worship all kinds of things out there scurrying around on this big old ball of dirt covered rock. Here in 49er land, we worship Super Bowl victories. It’s probably more sensible and practical to worship squirrels, but we’re a reckless bunch of howling idealists.
Aaron Hernandez enjoyed the weekend, watching cops parade in and out of his house, while a throng of gawkers set up camp across the street. This would probably be the time that Hernandez prepared to belly down to the Ray Lewis bar of ignominy. Perhaps Aaron will summon up what Ray could not — some empathy for the deceased and his family.
Ray has been hired by ESPN as yet another self-aggrandizing boob to annoy fans on NFL game days this coming year. ESPN seems hell bent on gathering as many illiterate dimwits as possible to clutter up the “analyst” booth each week. A functioning “mute” button will be a must this year for Monday Night Football games. If only there were a “bleep” blur out button, too.
The Twitterboomers generation is still in its infancy, but over the next ten years many of these NFL tweeters will be eased out of the game and go through the angst of not only seeing their playing days end, but also seeing their 30,000 followers shrink drastically down to less than 4 figures. A double shock to the psyche. Sometime soon, we might see the first ex-player admitted to the hospital for Twitter Shock Syndrome.
I have wisely prepared for this possible scenario by keeping my Twitter following to a modest four. Even though losing a mere one follower would represent a 25% drop in my approval rating, one is still one. Not much to sweat about.