EDITOR’S NOTE: Today’s Battlefield Field Filing will be short. Our war correspondent, while trying to board a flight to take him to his new assignment in Kiev, Ukraine, was detained by some thuggish ICE officials at the airport and held in a tiny room while shackled to the table and, as a result, missed most of last night’s battle. However, he so offended the ICE officials that they let him go after he refused to succumb to enhanced interrogation. Basically, like all of us, they got sick of him.
It’s peaceful now at Hawkins FIeld as the Nashville Boys lick their wounds and slowly eat their cold breakfast fare (the GGOAT expressly refused to give them anything hot to eat as punishment.) After a lifeless performance against the troops from Kentucky, whose military uniforms made most people puke, they went down in defeat, something that hadn’t occurred in a long, long time. Not only that, it was worse than lifeless — it was like the headless mouse that your cat drags into the kitchen to show you and gloat just before they throw up.
I missed the battle due to a few difficulties at the airport but am happy I’m now back on the beat, so to speak, just not the kind of “beat” the ICE guys administered.
I did, however, make it to the press briefing after the battle. And that’s when the sparks really flew.
A somber and terse General Corby was visibly and audibly pissed off. Rather than internalize that as all good Generals must, he lashed out at innocent women in the throng who were possibly wearing thongs.
One young lady (a yankee from Michigan, no less) bore the brunt of that lashing.
From talking to other war correspondents I have ferreted out what caused this.
During the battle, the GGOAT made numerous strategical errors, blunders that, in the end, led to doom. He exhibited none of his usual aggressiveness, preferring instead to sit back and “see what happens.” In battle against a strong opponent, this is rarely a winning tactic. Yet that is the path he chose and when it comes to paths, it’s best to take the one you know the best because, otherwise, you might get lost in the weeds. And getting lost has serious consequences.
This wrong path taking reminds this war correspondents of a time in his youth, maybe age 10 or 11, when visiting a state park with his aunt and uncle who were having a get together with many friends from the past, WWII to be exact. Unfortunately, he was the only young lad around and, being ignored by the adults, something he was quite used to because, as his mother often said, “You talk too much, Mr. Buttinsky,” he wandered off to explore the woods.
Six hours later he re-emerged from those dense, bug and poison ivy infested woods.
He had fortunately and literally stumbled upon a dirt road that, had he gone the wrong way, would have led him to a high bluff and certain death. Fortunately, he went the other way, the path less traveled. And it made all the difference.
After rejoining the partying old people, most of whom were obviously tipsy but certainly happy, his aunt said to him: “There you are! We were wondering what had happened to you. Are you hungry, there’s still some potato salad and collard greens left.” It’s the lad’s experience, that usually meant those leftovers had been prepared by his aunt and meant they tasted awful due to her complete lack of culinary skills.
{Being a young lad and not having yet developed by smart ass skills I refrained from saying, “Did you wonder enough to actually go looking for me?”. I did, however, later develop those skills while attending the Magnet School of Hard Knocks for Precocious Youth and I’m glad I did because the alternative to being a smart ass is being a dumb ass and I much prefer smart over dumb.}
I’m not sure the point of this story, but maybe it means the GGOAT should have stuck with what has worked best for the Nashville Boys in the past — aggression, small ball, execution of the basics, solid defensive strategy — and taken the road more traveled instead of that less traveled — timidity, bully ball, sit back and wait for another miracle.
Fortunately for the Nashville Boys, all is not lost. They live to fight another day although they do have a few less soldier’s shoulders available for combat. And it’s against a familiar opponent, the boys from the state of Wright. It will take a Herculean effort to beat them, much as it was in their previous recent battle. But, if they prevail, they can take on the Kentucky boys again and possibly even again.
This time, things may be different.
OTOH, things may not be different.
Either way, this war correspondent, saved by fate from his fate awaiting in Kiev, will be there to observe what happens.
As always, may the best men win. I would say men or woman, but women always win when they come up against men so that wouldn’t be fair to the men.
Above all else, we believe in fairness. And while life may not always be fair (actually, it’s never fair) the best men do often win in the end no matter the odds against them.
It’s peaceful now at Hawkins FIeld as the Nashville Boys lick their wounds and slowly eat their cold breakfast fare (the GGOAT expressly refused to give them anything hot to eat as punishment.) After a lifeless performance against the troops from Kentucky, whose military uniforms made most people puke, they went down in defeat, something that hadn’t occurred in a long, long time. Not only that, it was worse than lifeless — it was like the headless mouse that your cat drags into the kitchen to show you and gloat just before they throw up.
I missed the battle due to a few difficulties at the airport but am happy I’m now back on the beat, so to speak, just not the kind of “beat” the ICE guys administered.
I did, however, make it to the press briefing after the battle. And that’s when the sparks really flew.
A somber and terse General Corby was visibly and audibly pissed off. Rather than internalize that as all good Generals must, he lashed out at innocent women in the throng who were possibly wearing thongs.
One young lady (a yankee from Michigan, no less) bore the brunt of that lashing.
From talking to other war correspondents I have ferreted out what caused this.
During the battle, the GGOAT made numerous strategical errors, blunders that, in the end, led to doom. He exhibited none of his usual aggressiveness, preferring instead to sit back and “see what happens.” In battle against a strong opponent, this is rarely a winning tactic. Yet that is the path he chose and when it comes to paths, it’s best to take the one you know the best because, otherwise, you might get lost in the weeds. And getting lost has serious consequences.
This wrong path taking reminds this war correspondents of a time in his youth, maybe age 10 or 11, when visiting a state park with his aunt and uncle who were having a get together with many friends from the past, WWII to be exact. Unfortunately, he was the only young lad around and, being ignored by the adults, something he was quite used to because, as his mother often said, “You talk too much, Mr. Buttinsky,” he wandered off to explore the woods.
Six hours later he re-emerged from those dense, bug and poison ivy infested woods.
He had fortunately and literally stumbled upon a dirt road that, had he gone the wrong way, would have led him to a high bluff and certain death. Fortunately, he went the other way, the path less traveled. And it made all the difference.
After rejoining the partying old people, most of whom were obviously tipsy but certainly happy, his aunt said to him: “There you are! We were wondering what had happened to you. Are you hungry, there’s still some potato salad and collard greens left.” It’s the lad’s experience, that usually meant those leftovers had been prepared by his aunt and meant they tasted awful due to her complete lack of culinary skills.
{Being a young lad and not having yet developed by smart ass skills I refrained from saying, “Did you wonder enough to actually go looking for me?”. I did, however, later develop those skills while attending the Magnet School of Hard Knocks for Precocious Youth and I’m glad I did because the alternative to being a smart ass is being a dumb ass and I much prefer smart over dumb.}
I’m not sure the point of this story, but maybe it means the GGOAT should have stuck with what has worked best for the Nashville Boys in the past — aggression, small ball, execution of the basics, solid defensive strategy — and taken the road more traveled instead of that less traveled — timidity, bully ball, sit back and wait for another miracle.
Fortunately for the Nashville Boys, all is not lost. They live to fight another day although they do have a few less soldier’s shoulders available for combat. And it’s against a familiar opponent, the boys from the state of Wright. It will take a Herculean effort to beat them, much as it was in their previous recent battle. But, if they prevail, they can take on the Kentucky boys again and possibly even again.
This time, things may be different.
OTOH, things may not be different.
Either way, this war correspondent, saved by fate from his fate awaiting in Kiev, will be there to observe what happens.
As always, may the best men win. I would say men or woman, but women always win when they come up against men so that wouldn’t be fair to the men.
Above all else, we believe in fairness. And while life may not always be fair (actually, it’s never fair) the best men do often win in the end no matter the odds against them.
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