Let’s pray about balls this week, shall we?
Football. I can’t believe that I’m actually giving Christian commentary on anything sports-related since I am far from that kind of woman. However, some things merit my attention. With my ministry being based in the great city of Dallas, I’d have to be deaf and dumb to not be aware of our football franchise, the Dallas Cowboys. (I personally think that the team’s owner is a white trash reprobate with money, but I digress.) I miss the days of Coach Tom Landry, a fine Christian example of a man. Alas, today’s Cowboys are beset with fair-weather fans. Win a game, everyone is cheering. Lose a game, and the team is a pariah. I couldn’t care less either way. BUT, a recent loss to a team from San Francisco did cause me to smirk. How can a bunch of ball carriers from that Sodom on the Bay outplay the rough and tough Cowboys? Embarrassing. And the headlines…… “San Francisco Tops Dallas.” Disgusting. Well, what can you expect from a team called the 69ers? That is it, isn’t it?
Baseball. I might as well stick to sports news since I’ve started that ball rolling, so to speak. I have heard that nothing is more American than baseball and apple pie (and maybe a Chevrolet, but that’s a dated slogan!). Lord knows I love a good apple pie, but watching baseball bores me to grief. While I hear that many of these players shamelessly protrude their buttocks in those tight pants, I just don’t have the wherewithal to inspect them myself for prayer purposes. Nonetheless, I find myself paying attention to these pitchers and catchers in support of my home state. Apparently, the Dallas baseball players and the Houston baseball players are in some sort of contest to see who has the bigger bat. I realize that pride is a sin, but I take secret pleasure in watching the two cities harp at each other in some puffed-up glory. I predict victory for my home team. After all, while it may be more “American,” a Chevrolet ASTRO Van just doesn’t hold a candle to a big Ford RANGER Pickup!
Hardball. Let us pause for reflection on the passing of a television starlet and huckster. Sister Suzanne Somers has left this mortal coil after many years of battling that cancer demon. While I flinched at her blond bimbo character portrayed in that 70s filth, THREE’S COMPANY, it certainly put her on the map, aside from that cinematic quick look from the inside of a 57 T-Bird. After four seasons of television magic with Brother Ritter and Sister DeWitt, Sister Suzanne was summarily fired because she dared to play hardball and ask for equal pay with the actor playing the alleged sodomite. I didn’t think much of that at the time, but the Lord has revealed the importance of her defiance to all women today. For her willingness to advance the cause of women, I am going to overlook her spreading her thighs in infomercials and spouting her beliefs in kooky health schemes. Bless you, Sister Somers. May the Lord “come and knock on your door.”
