Nixon Calling the Play
Daily Observer
“Here’s
an interesting thesis,” Lapius said, folding the paper longitudinally, and
peering at the editorial page.
“What
is an interesting thesis?” I asked S.Q.
Lapius, peering over his shoulder and trying to read the small print.
“This
fellow says that President Nixon merely epitomizes the average American. That his problems merely represent some
cumulative total of what we all are guilty of.
Namely sharp practices, conniving, contempt for our fellow citizens, and
adherence to the adage that anything short of murder goes as long as it helps
us get ahead.”
“Surely
that seems a bit extreme,” I said.
“Murder should be included too.”
“You
know, Harry, remarks such as that are not very constructive, are they?”
“Maybe
not, Simon, but I don’t like being lumped together with President Nixon. I have nothing against him personally, mind
you. As a matter of fact, I even won a
few bucks on him on the last election.
But I see no advantage at this stage of becoming what might be his sole
supporter. After all, why should
ordinary citizens like you and I be implicated in an orgy of national guilt
because Nixon has problems?”
“No
Harry. I think that this fellow has
something. Sure Nixon has problems. You remember when he was just starting out
they used to ask, ‘would you buy a used car from Nixon?’ But the fact is, that if the used care
salesman is dishonest as a breed why do we tolerate and make jokes about it.”
“Actually
we have sort of accepted the sharp practice and chicanery as the American way
for too long. We sympathize with people
who cheat on their income tax, and take pride in the loopholes, pad our expense
accounts. We don’t do this
directly. Actually our accountants do it
reflexly. But we certainly don’t
discourage them.”
“Simon
what are you saying? That the whole
country is one big collective crook?
That’s silly. As a matter of fact
I just heard the president say he wasn’t a crook.”
Lapius
smiled. “Maybe you are right,
Harry. It’s just that I’ve always
thought of
“What
happened yesterday?”
“A
football game.”
“And
that changed your mind? What happened in
the football game? Did they hand out too
many penalties?”
“No. Actually it seems a minor point but I think
it important.”
“You
think what important?” I was interested now in the football game. I didn’t know who had played or who had won,
but I suddenly became intrigued with this great game that changed Lapius’s mind
about the character of
“You
know the rule about coaches not being allowed to call plays from the
sidelines?” Lapius asked owlishly.
“Of
course. Instead they send in players to
the huddle with the plays they want run.”
“But
this year this is a new wrinkle. The
player with the play is just a messenger.
He hands the play to the quarterback, turns around and scampers off the
field. He doesn’t even have to play.”
“I
know that Lapius,” I said impatiently, “But what changed you mind about
“That
did it. The messenger.”
“Why,
for goodness sake? That’s
ridiculous. I don’t follow you.”
“Look
at it this way. Harry. Why can’t the
coach call plays from the sidelines?”
“Because
he’s not allowed to.”
“But
why isn’t he allowed to?”
“I
don’t know. I never thought about it.”
“That’s
one trouble with
Finally
the original meaning of the rule is lost.
After all, isn’t it true that when the motormen in
“Don’t
you think it is silly to prevent the coach from calling plays?”
“Sure,”
Lapius said, “That’s a dumb rule to begin with.
But instead of getting rid of the rule, they paper it over with new
rules. Well it doesn’t really matter,”
Lapius continued, “I don’t like football that much anyway.”