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Although I am not much of a football fan, it would have been pretty hard to miss coverage of the displays of protest and solidarity that swept the league this Sunday.  Since I don’t have much time tonight to really dig into this topic (and I’m sure the internet is already flooded with hot takes from people way more invested in the league than myself), I’ll keep my own commentary brief.  First and foremost, congratulations to the players for their courage and solidarity in using their position to make a statement.  Secondly, shame on Donald Trump and anyone who continues to either support him or enable his dangerously petty ignorance, penchant for child-like tantrums, and overall boorish behaviour.  Having said all that, I am reminded today of a section in Hunter Thompson’s Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail that didn’t make the final cut in my post last year.  As with so many things from that book, it seemed rather relevant today so, without further ado, here’s an extended cut:

This happened to me on the last Sunday of the regular NFL season when two slobbering drunk sportswriters got me thrown out of the press box at the Robert F. Kennedy stadium in Washington.  I was there as a guest of David Burgin, sports editor at the Washington Star…

…We were halfway down the ramp to the parking lot before I understood what had happened.  “That gin-soaked little Nazi from the Gazette got pissed when you didn’t doff your hat for the national anthem,” Burgin explained.  “He kept bitching about you to the guy in charge of the press box, then he got that asshole who works for him all cranked up and they started talking about having you arrested.”

“Jesus creeping shit,” I muttered.  “Now I know why I got out of sportswriting…I barely even remember the national anthem.  Usually I don’t even stand up…(54)