John McCain is in some serious shit.
His chances at the White House are fading faster than Elizabeth Taylor’s sense of reality. Even Palin’s questioning the dire outlook, wishing she wouldn’t have muted Desperate Housewives to pick up the phone and accept the invitation onto the Sidestepping Express.
The Associated Press released a poll today that likely spells the end of yet another failed presidential run for Maverick Mac. Numbers seldom lie, not unless age, weight or infidelities are involved. And these numbers had to steal Mac’s breath like a piece of steak fat caught in the throat – More Americans would prefer catching a football game with Barack, a devastating statistic that analysts say is more representative of the electorate body than favorableness or confidence polls.
If someone can’t fathom spending an entire Saturday or Sunday afternoon with you watching pigskins fly, there’s not a chance in hell they will stomach voting you into office. Not when it means four, possibly eight, years of unexpected game interruptions so you can blather on about international crises, economic fallouts, and the like, while the Packers and Cowboys are duking it out in overtime.
No, not in this country. Not now. Not when football’s only competition for attention on the weekend is sex. Even that barely holds weight in a showdown with such a formidable opponent. The excitement and promise for rewards just isn’t there like it is on the gridiron.
Thus McCain better ignite the farewell tour. Shake hands with the folks who made ill-advised donations to the campaign. Apologize to the state of Alaska for dragging their beautiful state through the muck while their once-revered governor flashes her brutal scabs and bruises to the entire country…world.
Indeed, sitting next to Mac for an entire football game, let alone an entire day of games, would be nearly insufferable. The irrelevant comments. The contrived chuckles. The sporadic farts and burps. The continual flip-flopping through the game’s entirety, always rooting on the winning team. Eating all the god damn pretzels…not what this country needs right now.
Dirty Bill and W? The country would surely catch a game with either one of them. Put politics aside. Bring out the beers, let W chop the rails, and enjoy a clash of titans. Barack would fit right into the party. Him and W telling old stories like they were college roommates. Bill brings the ladies and James Carville taps the keg – enough said.
But McCain? No, the only thing worthwhile he would bring to the soiree is Sarah Palin. And she doesn’t even like football. She would suggest we turn on the Vancouver Canucks and Toronto Maple Leafs match. People would stare. Frightened stares.
And then collectively think – and we were this close to putting these people in the White House.