When the NFL lockout ended, I was reminded of the summer of 1981 when Santa locked out the elves. Exorbitant elf salaries were really cutting into Santa’s red velour jumpsuit obsession. It chapped Santa’s hide that elves were cruising around the North Pole in pimped out sleds, while he and the Mrs. were still making cookies and milk runs in their circa 1800s utilitarian sleigh.
Why don’t you remember this? It’s because elves are three feet tall and they build toys. It’s all they do. It’s all they know. It’s because Santa needs elves to meet the consumer’s demand. And mostly it’s because the elf lockout ended in plenty of time for the Christmas season to proceed uninterrupted.
I watched the Super Bowl and after a week long bout of the end-of-the-season blues, I hunkered down to mediocre NBA action, the agonizing long baseball season, weekend golf, and some chicks playing soccer. You see, my biological sports clock has been programmed to expect football in the fall.
So why should I care that NFL players couldn’t “work” during the off season? It’s the same reason I hung my stocking up in 1981 with nary a worry that the big man would do his thing.
The players need football. The owners need football. The fans need football. And so does Santa. I hear he’s got tickets in the cheap seats at Lambeau on a Monday night in December.
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