Been waiting four years to use that one. Last Saturday earned the distinction as we in the Lightning Capitol of the Nation suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous weather, so bad it caused the unusual cancellation of a football game, this one the season opener between the universities of Florida and Idaho. But was it all that bad, really? Not if you’re asking me.
A half-hour before the scheduled seven p.m. starting time, the sun was out, the players were on the field and a monster crowd was filing in to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. The band was gathering in the southeast tunnel to perform its pre-game shenanigans and spirits were high. Suddenly, an odd message found its way through the loudspeakers: due to a lightning strike less than eight miles away, the game would be delayed for thirty minutes. Oh oh. I had seen this horror show before. Lightning which is invisible to all humans appears on a monitoring screen out at Mr. Weather’s domicile and the world comes screeching to a halt.
“Well, what can you do?” the man in the street shrugs and surrenders. “It’s an NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) rule!” Um, no, matter of fact, it’s not. Irritated by the whole affair, I got out my NCAA Rule Book where on Page 117 it plainly states that a stoppage of play is merely “recommended.” Basically, it’s up to the principals involved, the schools and the officials, how to proceed. Everybody would just prefer to absolve themselves of the responsibility and pass the buck on to the NCAA. The supposed “rule,” by the way, is of recent making. Just a few years ago, before everybody became sissies, they actually played football in the rain. In none of those games that I attended was anyone ever hit by lightning, nor have I ever read of such at other venues. Once, in Atlanta, at a contest between Florida and Georgia Tech, a lightning bolt struck very close to the field (also me) and the game was properly suspended for ninety minutes, then resumed. A common sense solution.
On Saturday night, the entire first half could have been played rain-free. The scheduled starting time was seven p.m. and it takes roughly an hour-and-a-half to play two quarters. At eight-thirty, which would have been halftime, it began raining fairly hard. Up until then, the crowd was festive, holding out hope the game would still be played. Since only the lower level of end zone seats are covered, however, a strong rain promotes a fan exodus to the area beneath the stands which gets a little gamey when occupied by 70,000 or so sweaty humans. It is an ill wind that bloweth no man good, however, and for concessionaires, Bingo Night had arrived, lines of bored customers queuing up to imbibe. Some people gave up and wandered off. The great majority clung to hope. And nachos.
After several delays, the rain temporarily abated and it was determined that play would begin just before ten p.m. despite worrisome field conditions, a more valid cause for cancellation. Idaho kicked off and the ball was fielded, ironically, by a speedy fellow named Valdez Showers, who splashed all the way to the Idaho fourteen-yard line, delighting the soggy home crowd. But not for long. Wouldn’t you know it—another of those pesky little lightning scamps appeared back at Weather Central. The Storm Police cleared the area once more. Well, they tried to. Several ebullient students, barely clothed and high on nachos, insisted on remaining to jump up and down in the raindrops. And the harder it came down, the louder they yelled. Hey, at least somebody was resisting “conventional wisdom.” The students weren’t the only ones who disagreed. In a poll in next day’s Gainesville Sun, 325 out of 1100 respondents thought the game should have been played. Granted, it’s no majority but still an encouraging number of dissidents for the current Weenie World we live in.
Ranger Roy The Most “Attractive” Man
Next Game, Let’s Hire Melvin
It occurs to us that measures must be taken to prevent the folly of last Saturday from reoccurring. Consider then the possible employment of South Carolinian Melvin Roberts, a virtual human lightning rod. Wherever Melvin goes, lightning follows. Upon his arrival in Gainesville, the obvious thing to do would be to secure the fellow somewhere well beyond the 8-mile limit and get on with the game.
Melvin has been struck by lightning a whopping SIX times so by now he must be developing some sort of immunity. Interestingly, each time Melvin is zapped, he proceeds to divorce his wife, as if the bolt from the blue is telling him something. Then, the shock wears off and he remarries, though if I were Mrs. Melvin it would be separate beds for me.
On June 27, thunder and lightning beset the Roberts home in Seneca City. Melvin, who should certainly know better by now, marched into the back yard to cover his nice lawnmower. WHAMMO! Hit him right in his punkin’ head, ran through his body and passed through a leg to the ground. His neighbors, who are grateful to have Melvin drawing fire next door (but always check the weather reports before inviting him over), looked outside right after the storm. There was Melvin, lying in the grass, none the worse for wear though now possessing burned skin on his foot and a little leg blistering. Much better than a previous hit which left him in a wheelchair for one year.
“I don’t know what it is,” sighs Melvin. “Maybe somebody up there doesn’t like me.”
More likely, Melvin, maybe somebody up there DOES.
The Sad Ballad Of Roy Sullivan
The odds of being struck by lightning for an ordinary person over 80 years is roughly 1 in 3000. For whatever reason, this did not particularly help U.S. park ranger Roy Sullivan, who was blasted an exciting SEVEN times, surviving each strike. Ranger Roy is recognized by the prestigious Guinness World Records as the human struck by lightning more than any other. Deciding not to press his luck any longer, Roy offed himself with a shotgun at age 71, though friends blamed it on an “unrequited love.” If the friends are correct, we can appreciate the ample concern of his love interest. Although they could have moved to Arizona.
“I Really Felt Something With You, Lisa.” ”Yes, Jens, Me Too!”
Sex in the bushes led to enlightenment for Jens Gottlied and his girlfriend, Lisa Gruhn, who had pulled off the highway for a quickie in North-Rhine, Westphalia, in western Germany. A tremendous bolt of lightning struck the ground nearby and the terrified couple abandoned their clothes and their modesty, running from the bushes naked and making the long run back to their car. Guess where the keys were?
The Ultimate Cure For Erectile Dysfunction
A Croatian motorbiker named Ante Djindjic from Zagreb was knocked unconscious when lightning struck his penis during a quick roadside toilet break. “I don’t remember what happened,” said Ante. “One minute I was taking a leak, the next thing I knew I was in the hospital.” Doctors told him the lightning went through his body because he was wearing boots and “earthed itself through my penis.” Fortunately, there will be no lasting effects for Djindjic, who is among those hoping that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. Really hoping.
No Fart Jokes Around Natasha, Please
So what’s with those wild and crazy Croatians? A Croatian woman named Natasha Timarovic was struck by lightning while brushing her teeth….with her mouth to the tap sending current through her body. Like Ante Djindjic, she was wearing rubber-soled footwear and the lightning bolt was unable to exit through her feet. It took the path of least resistance—through her rectum, earthing itself via her moist shower curtain. The victim remembers only that the experience was very painful….and way louder than the usual flatulence. What does one say? Well, excuuuse me!?
Having Fun In Wisconsin
Play Ball!
Timid as he may be, even Charlie Brown is not discouraged by the elements. Many’s the time he has stood on the mound, bravely exhorting his cohorts to carry on in the face of frog-choking downpours. “I can see a patch of blue up there!” promised the drowning pitcher. And he wasn’t the only one.
In 2008, LSU’s soccer team played a game at Boise State. It started off with a light drizzle, which turned to heavy rain by halftime. During the break it began to snow. After halftime, you couldn’t see yourself for the snow but the teams kept plugging away in Boise’s largest snowfall in eleven years. When nobody could see a foot in front of themselves any more, the game was suspended, a 2-2 tie.
Everybody remembers the famous NFL ‘'snowplow game” of 1982, featuring 20-degree weather in Foxboro, with gusts up to 30 miles per hour. The snow was so bad neither the Dolphins nor the Patriots were able to score until late in the last period. New England finally moved the ball to the Miami 16 yard line with 4:45 remaining, optimum territory for an easy field goal under most circumstances but these were not most circumstances. Not wishing to take any chances on the snowy, slippery field, the Patriots sent out a snowplow to clear some space around the ball. As Jerry Seinfeld would say, “Well, there’s no RULE against that.” The field goal was good and New England won the game, 3-0. The NFL decided that snowplows were too much of a home field advantage and banned them from future games.
In 1950, the Michigan Wolverines, no strangers to cold weather, headed to Columbus, Ohio to play their traditional contest with the OSU Buckeyes. When they arrived, they found out they would be playing in a foot of snow, with 5-degree temperatures and winds up to 40 mph, tough even for Michiganders. There were no touchdowns scored in the game, only four field goals and 45 (count ‘em—FORTY-FIVE—punts). Ohio State’s Vic Janowicz played with almost frostbitten hands determined to pull out the victory.
In the 1988 NFL playoff game between the Philadelphia Eagles and the Chicago Bears, a dense fog rolled in making it virtually impossible to play. Players were crashing into one another even more often than usual because they couldn’t see each other just a few yards away. Both teams ran the ball almost exclusively because nobody could see the passes. Tough guy Mike Singletary of the Bears said it was his “favorite game ever,” leading Chicago to a 20-12 win.
The 1967 NFL Championship game between the Green Bay Packers and the Dallas Cowboys became known as the “Ice Bowl,” because of the grim conditions. Though considered one of the greatest games ever played considering the stakes, it was worse than freezing, the coldest game ever in the National Football League at MINUS fifteen degrees with a perky wind chill of MINUS 48. To make things even better, the Packers’ Lambeau Field turf-heating system malfunctioned before the game, leaving the field rock hard. Officials had to verbally call penalties because when referee Norm Schachter tried to blow his whistle, it actually FROZE to his lips. Packers great Ray Nitschke said the next day he had six frostbitten toes. Think those guys would have minded a little phantom lightning?
Kiddie Porn
Left To Right, Bill’s Stepson, Danny With Gal Pal Stacey Juris (Circa 1969--photo by Leonard Weinbaum)
That’s all, folks….
