There's Backwards and there's . . .
BurkeWords
In this issue:
So what is it, you ask, that caused me after months of sitting on the sidelines, to sudden pick up the proverbial pen and start writing this column again? What cataclysmic event has taken place to shake the ground hard enough to knock me on my butt in front of the keyboard.
The NBA, of course.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not trivializing anything. Except, of course, that I don't give a flying fig for professional basketball. But then again, I don't give a flying fig for our President, so they have something in common right there.
But look at it from a fresh angle -- something that I look to try, though don't always succeed in. Two sides arguing, yet not talking. A massive showdown. And they let it come down to the wire before either side would cave. All the eggs were in one basket (forgive me, but could you find a better metaphor that wasn't as punny?) and the entire season, along with thousands of paychecks, was on the line. That finality had a certain ring of familiarity to it.
And then I started to read some of the numbers. No, not the salary cap. Or the percentages -- though I did not that the players will now get 55 per cent of the revenue, which is the same percentage as the GOP controls in the Senate.
No, the numbers that got me were the numbers of games to be played. A 52-game season. 13 weeks. Four games per week. Do those numbers seem familiar? They remind me of a deck of cards. Now, the deck is being shuffled and the games will start being dealt. During the lockout, the only thing a deck of cards was good for was building house, and the entire house nearly tumbled down on the players.
Speaking of "houses" -- how's this for a segue? -- the House of Representatives let their showdown with the President come down to the final buzzer as well. But the President overplayed his hand and the House tumbled down on him. It was called a parisan impeachment, but without the crossover votes from the Democrats, President William Jefferson Clinton would not have been impeached on the charge of obstructing justice -- the GOP vote fell two ayes too short.
And after losing the battle, the Democrats went out and had a pep rally. Maybe the NBA players tuned in to raise their spirits as well.
Clinton has tried to stay one step ahead of the pack. During the hearings, his team preached to the full House, having given up the committee as lost. When impeachment became inevitable, they turned their sights on the Senate. Now that it's in the Senate, there's no one to turn to.
Time to take the best deal possible, call it a victory and get on with the rest of the season, er, session.
At this point, I'm not sure which side are the players and which the owners. It would seem that the GOP and the Senate, in general, hold all the cards, but Clinton has a nasty habit of pulling an ace from his sleeve. (He lies about everything else, why shouldn't he cheat at poker?)
The impeachment trial isn't a game, of course. It shouldn't even be a negotiation. But I've resigned myself to the fact that Clinton won't resign and that the trial must, therefore, go forward. The Presidnet seems to welcome censure even though he a trial would let him off scot-free. That in itself should tell all parties in this negotiation something.
It has been a year or so that I've been saying this, but it seems that it may finally happen. While the NBA takes to the court, the GOP will take the President to trial and maybe this time Bill Clinton's White House of Cards will finally tumble down.
C. J. Burke
Return to Table of Contents.
P.S., it's good to be back.