Of course, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson's name has been on
the John O'Neill Wall of Heroes since the beginning,
scrawled in invisible ink...
Hunter S. Thompson, ESPN: Ah, but we live in a new
century now, and the president is not a football fan.
The first real game of the season will be a huge event
for most of us; but for young George Bush, it will
mean nothing. He will feel no relief, no escape from
the same sense of doom that fell on his father, only
12 years ago. The old man failed when he tried to get
re-elected, and so will his son. They both peaked too
soon, about six months before football season; and
after that, they sank like punctured fish.
So the time has come to get busy on what we call "the
summer book" in the business of gambling on
presidential elections. And right now the London/Vegas
numbers are about 51-49 percent for Bush, if only
because he is the filthy-rich incumbent and the son of
a global oil-industry magnate.
That is big in the politics business; but this year,
it will not be enough to make up for all the wretched,
disastrous failures of the Bush administration.
Betting on George Bush to win this coming election
would be like betting the Denver Broncos to win the
Super Bowl.
My own whim at the moment says that John Kerry will
win big in November, and that the Colts will finally
win the Super Bowl. Why not? This is the year of the
monkey, and George Bush will be lucky to get out of
Washington without being put on trial for treason.
Restore the Timeline, Show Up for Democracy in 2004:
Defeat Bush (again!)
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=thompson/040727
By Hunter S. Thompson
Page 2
Sean Penn called me last night and said he was
quitting the movie business until after the football
season.
"I am going on the road with Brett Favre and the
boys," he said. "The Packers will kick ass this year,
and I want to be part of it. I love Brett Favre."
His voice sounded strange, so I goaded him.
"The football season has been cancelled this year. The
White House just announced it."
"No!" he shouted. "That's impossible! Football season
will never be canceled in America -- not in an
election year. There would be riots."
"Exactly," I replied. "Horrible riots every Sunday
afternoon, in cities all over the country. Football
fans will go crazy. I already feel the Fear."
It's true, but not because of our football season
being canceled. No. We must have football. What would
this country be without football in October?
That is a dangerous question, so I try not to worry.
Only an imbecile would alienate every football freak
in the country at a time like this.
What would we do without Brett Favre and NFL football
this fall?
It would be political suicide.
Would the President do a thing like that?
Who knows for sure? He is already muttering about
"postponing" the whole election, and that is almost as
ugly as canceling a football season.
These rumors are dark and disturbing, especially for a
football addict in July. Take my word for it, because
I am a certified addict. It makes me feel crazy on
some days, and this is one of them.
I am a football addict, and I am not alone in this
country. We are legion, and we must have football ...
Yes. It is righteous, and only a jackass would cancel
it.
Election years are always weird in America, and they
always happen in football season. That is a fact of
life. The President will always be elected on the
first Tuesday in November, for good or ill, and not
even Richard Nixon could change it. He hated anything
that stood between him and a Green Bay Packers game,
especially on Monday nights.
Nixon was a bad loser. He hated losing worse than
death, and that is why I enjoyed him. We were both
football fans, both addicts; and on some days, nothing
else mattered.
But that was yesterday, and George Bush is now.
Where is Richard Nixon, now that we need him? He was
crooked in every way and his hands were covered with
blood -- but he was a rabid, high-rolling football fan
with a sly taste for gin; and on some nights, he could
be good company.
Ah, but we live in a new century now, and the
president is not a football fan. The first real game
of the season will be a huge event for most of us; but
for young George Bush, it will mean nothing. He will
feel no relief, no escape from the same sense of doom
that fell on his father, only 12 years ago. The old
man failed when he tried to get re-elected, and so
will his son. They both peaked too soon, about six
months before football season; and after that, they
sank like punctured fish.
So the time has come to get busy on what we call "the
summer book" in the business of gambling on
presidential elections. And right now the London/Vegas
numbers are about 51-49 percent for Bush, if only
because he is the filthy-rich incumbent and the son of
a global oil-industry magnate.
That is big in the politics business; but this year,
it will not be enough to make up for all the wretched,
disastrous failures of the Bush administration.
Betting on George Bush to win this coming election
would be like betting the Denver Broncos to win the
Super Bowl.
My own whim at the moment says that John Kerry will
win big in November, and that the Colts will finally
win the Super Bowl. Why not? This is the year of the
monkey, and George Bush will be lucky to get out of
Washington without being put on trial for treason.
Yes sir, we are coming around to some bold visions
now, but my time is running out. Next week, I will
tell you what happens in America if Kerry loses this
election, along with the current odds on whether there
will be an election this year. Okay. Mahalo.
Dr. Hunter S. Thompson was born and raised in
Louisville, Ky. His books include "Hell's Angels,"
"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," "Fear and Loathing:
On the Campaign Trail '72," "The Great Shark Hunt,"
"The Curse of Lono," "Generation of Swine," "Songs of
the Doomed," "Screwjack," "Better Than Sex," "The
Proud Highway," "The Rum Diary," and "Fear and
Loathing in America." His latest book, "Kingdom of
Fear," has just been released. A regular contributor
to various national and international publications,
Thompson now lives in a fortified compound near Aspen,
Colo. His column, "Hey, Rube," appears regularly on
Page 2.