[Ed Note: Today’s column was written by guest bloggist Lowell Cohn, of the Santa Rosa Press Unca_Chuck. The Outsider is not responsible for nor does it necessarily endorse any of the views presented here.]
The lockout is now two months old. If the players had not left the negotiating table, an action that triggered the lockout, there would most certainly be a new CBA by now. Case closed. The players are to blame.
So, what are we going to do about these overpaid brats that are ruining our spring and moving along toward ruining our summer, too? I suggest we all write an email to Peyton Manning and tell him to get this straightened out. Screw Tom Brady. He’s a wuss. Manning is a level headed guy with the power to bring DeMaurice Smith down to earth. The man is a cancer and almost solely to blame for the mess that is occurring.
Better yet, let’s all email the POTUS:
Yo, dude. Get this damn football mess cleaned up pronto. Send in some black ops fellas from the IRS to audit every player in the league that supports DeMaurice Smith. End of lawsuit. End of lockout. Easy shit. Probably even Constitutional. Who cares? Do it.
Disgruntled fan and VOTER
Let’s face it. There’s nothing that would increase the POTUS’ popularity more than forcing the players and owners into a locked room and keeping them there until they reached an agreement. True, this might guarantee four more years of Obama, which would not be pleasing to one and all, but what’s more important: the POTUS or the NFL? It’s not even close.
An extensive ten year audit should commence immediately on DeMaurice and any player who supports him and those players’ agents, too. Give the owners a pass. They contribute to the economy and presidential election funds and provide teams for us to root for. Players and agents are just selfish greed heads. All they contribute to is jewelry stores and thug entourages.
Do we have a sunny view of the current crop of players populating the various sports enterprises of America? No. We do not. If they are on your team, they’re okay. All the rest of them are punks. Strutting, posturing, look-at-me punks.
Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio? Indeed.
P.S.: This is not an endorsement of Jerry Jones. He’s a jerk. But somebody has to own the Cowboys, so why not a colossal asshole? It’s poetry.