Feeling Minnesota

Speaking of the NFL, is anyone else beginning to smell a little 1998 in the air? Almost every year, one team that failed to make the playoffs the previous year ends up in the Super Bowl, and the mighty Vikes finally appear to have a defense to pair with their high-octane offense.

The ironic thing about this black quarterback controversy is that the only apparent race-based decision that I’ve ever seen at the position was when Denny Green signed Randall Cunningham to a long-term contract and let Brad Johnson go. I love Randall and I have nothing but the fondest memories of that magical 1998 season, but the small fact that his long and distinguished career was running on fumes at that point would have seemed to indicate that just maybe it might possibly make sense to keep the younger guy around. And sure enough, much to Denny’s surprise, Randall’s wheels fell off the very next year.

But it worked out well for everyone in the end. Randall got paid for an incredible year, Brad got his Super Bowl ring with Tampa, and now we’ve got Daunte.

You never write, you never call….

I couldn’t help but notice some similarities today between Patrick Buchanan’s column on the Rush Limbaugh NFL controversy today and my own. On Monday, I wrote: “It is shocking, however, that he chose to resign so quickly, rather than force ESPN to show its timorous hand by firing him for daring to speak out on an issue around which the cowardly sports media has danced so delicately for decades.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Buchanan wrote: “But, as a friend said wisely, Rush should not have resigned. He should have forced the weenies at ESPN to fire him and to publish the reason why they were doing it, so the world could see how craven they are.”

Now, this is hardly an original point – it’s not exactly akin to the simultaneous development of calculus, to say the least – but I am mildly curious to know if perhaps I happen to be that friend of whom Mr. Buchanan spoke with such regard. Probably not, since I suppose he writes his column several days in advance, in which case he would not have seen my column. But it’s remotely possible, and if it is the case, this leaves me with two questions:

1) Why mention Slate and Barra, but not WorldNetDaily and my own bad self?

2) When are we going to hang out? I don’t know about you, but I have the definite impression that hanging out with Mr. Patrick J. Buchanan promises a good time. Not as good a time as, say, David Spade or The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, but a good time nonetheless.