Georgetown lost more than a trusted operator
Bizarre as it seems, the Broncos are leaving Denver for Los Angeles after the 2007 season. It’s not that the Broncos want to leave; the powers-that-be are greasing the skids under them because, quite frankly, they’re too much of a good thing. Win or lose, they are the Big It in the four-pro town. So they need to go.
In their place, the Colorado Crush will switch from the Arena League to the NFL. The powers-that-be feel quite certain the Crush can make an immediate transition to the Big League despite no experience pulling the big hills—er, competing in the NFL—at 8,500—er, 5,280—feet and having no real engine—er, quarterback—to do the job.
In fact, the powers-that-be seem not to be too concerned that the Crush will forfeit the first three weeks of the season, thereby losing revenue not only for the team but also for businesses dependent upon the—rides—er, games—to draw tourists—er, fans—to their venues. It’s no more than an “inconvenience.”
In the games’ places, the powers-that-be are planning tours of the station—er, stadium—so the tourists—er, fans—can get a nostalgic look at what used to be a thriving and pulsating experience. The hundreds and maybe thousands of onlookers that will have driven from afar will be able to look at and reverently touch the tracks—er, seats—upon which they might have ridden—er, sat.
Ironically, businesses accustomed to the Broncos never breaking down—er, missing a game—know they have been railroaded—er, sacked—but keep quiet for fear the Crush might hightail, leaving them with nothing. So, instead of blowing off steam, “hush” is the word lest the situation decline from dire to disastrous.
For their part, the Broncos are more than miffed at the shabby treatment they have gotten after 30—er, 48—years of success and have made it clear they will prefer to keep their franchise in the Royal Gor—er, Los Angeles—because there they are—er, will be—appreciated, valued, and respected for the quality of the organization they run.
Through the King and the Duke in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain skewers small-town Americans, showing how easily they are taken for a ride. Liking to see themselves as sophisticates, they can often be gullible local yokels, taken in by smooth-talking big city dudes.
Hubris and the lack of accountability—there’s an epidemic of both today. Regrets and apologies are rare because the public is afraid to demand them. The reason: in their hearts, the people know they’ve been scammed and have no one to blame but themselves.
“So it goes,” as Kurt Vonnegut would have phrased it.
Perhaps a marketing ploy to redress the situation locally can be the re-introduction of Good ‘n Plenty, a candy from our childhoods made of licorice inside pink and white hard-sugar capsules. Choo-Choo Charlie the Engineer can stutter-step as he did in days of yore shaking a box of Good ‘n Plenty while intoning, “Chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, woo, woo! / Good ‘n Plenty, Good ‘n Plenty, woo, woo!” Would-be riders would be invited to trail the otherwise idle crew on the tracks with a box of Good ‘n Plenty doing their personal rendition of what riding a train might have felt like.
All aboard! “Good ‘n plenty, good ‘n plenty, woo, woo!”