Mood:
not sureTopic: "Good Friday, Maybe"(11)
Frodo felt positively vindicated a few days ago. A masterful stroke by Aragorn enveloped the hypocrisy of those who oppose him. The black gate laid asunder before all the peoples of Middle Earth, save the Grey Company. Sanctions were successful and there was no longer a need for weapons of mass destruction. Frodo could not take pleasure in the politic, he was grateful that peace was at hand.
Then, in a short biography somewhere between Section C and the Obituaries, he saw the name of Eddie LeBaron. A Hobbit to be sure, the one-time quarterback of the Washington Redskins, and Frodo's earliest favorite player. He was backed up by Ralph Gugliemi and Eagle Day, successors to the title of Slingin' Sammy. The Redskins truly stunk. They were the last team to have a black player. They were coached by men who had no talent for the game, and they were housed in a stadium that was not safe for pedestrian traffic. Only the golden arm of the shortest quarterback in the league produced any points at all for the team with the best fight song in all the land.
Eddie LeBaron is dead. He lies now on the altar before Touchdown Jesus. Frodo stands alone, not nearly as tall as the quarterback who taught him that the game is what matters. Hail to the Redskins, and thank you Eddie, for all those passes that eluded Dickie James and Billy Barnes.
