University of Virginia Library

Drew Gardner

Throw The Bomb, Hank

With the resumption of the 'War' talks in Paris, there has been
considerable speculation filtering throughout the world about
why, actually, they ever did break down, and where they will lead
now? It must be difficult for internationalists to understand this
dilemma. We citizens, and football fans, have less trouble.

Henry K. charged into the egg-shaped room of the White
House. President Nixon, leaning rather confidently in his swivel
chair, tossed his George Allen-autographed NFL football in the
air, and caught it. "That makes three in a row" he beamed; "hope
the Skins can do the same." Ron the Z., in a three point stance,
practices some of his more deceptive moves.

"How's your game plan going, 'Superkraut'," the President
glibbed.

"Now that you've cut down on the air attack, Mr. President,
I've run into serious strategy problems. The fans want to know
your offense."

"How's that?" the President asked, flipping the ball end over
end to Ron. "Billy Kilmer taught me that one," he added
flippantly.

"Well Dick," Kissinger confided, "The truth is, everyone's
questioning your competence as Strategist and Chief."

"Let's get down to brass tacks, Hank. Ron, what's he mean?"

"Well coach," Ziegler answered, straightening himself up, "the
truth is, all our previous game plays have been picked apart."

"That's absurd," shouted the chief, switching on the closed
circuit video of the Redskins practice. "Have you tried the
Watergate play?"

"Yes we've already denied everything and asked for proof,"
Ron countered, "but the opposition still charges us with
perversive insensitivity. Besides, the other team has films of our
aerial attack on the North."

"Well, call an audible, Ron," the president retorted. "Tell them
that the North Vietnamese pressure defense at the bargaining
table compelled us to take to the air."

"They've already seen through that one too, Chief," Henry
answered, "and now they insist that the only real pressure is your
B-52 bombings of hospitals and schools."

"There's an easy draw play for that one, guys," Nixon
rebounded, "Tell them that their air defense is miscalculating,
that their SAM missiles are falling back to the field, and hitting
their own cities."

"No. I'm afraid they won't swallow that one, coach. Have you
got anything else?" Ron asked.

"Of course I've got something else. How about this one: In the
heat of the contest, some of our trainers accidentally mistook our
archaic 'stupid' bombs, for the later model 'smart' bombs. It was
simply a broken play."

"Alright Mr. President". . .

"That's coach when we're in the game room,Ron!"

"I'm sorry coach; it won't happen again."

"Hank," the President continued, turning his attention to his
top foreign policy advisor, "you seem a bit nervous. What is it?
You're not going to choke on me now are you?"

"Well coach, things are getting really difficult. It's not that I've
lost any of my dedication, it's just, lately you seem to have
changed you game plan so much. I fear you've lost confidence in
me."

"Nothing of the sort Hank. You're still my number one man.
Would I let you start this game if you weren't?"

"Of course not coach," Kissinger stammered, "but it just
seems, with all this pressure on .. this being my first Super Bowl

and all – I was hoping you would have something new to offer
me for this round. . . You know, a good ole Whittier College –
break-their-back-play. . . something with pizazz!"

"As a matter of fact," the President answered, "I do have a
play I've been thinking of using ever since the election. I guess
now is as good a time as any." He paused, and smiled to himself.
"Boys, I want you to tell the world the truth."

Ron and Henry were stunned. They glanced at one another in
disbelief. "Is it really true he has lost his senses?" Ziegler
whispered.

"Now hear me out," the President continued, "what
difference does it make anymore? McGovern can't find an
audience, Congress is thoroughly entangled in its own
bureaucratic clap-trap, and I'm president of the most powerful
country in the world, for four more years. (Over the hill? Hell,
I'm king of the hill.) Tell 'em we're the Super Champs, and we'll
not stand for defeat by some fourth rate bush leaguers."

"But Mr. President," Henry the K. interrupted, "how do we
phrase it? We can't just come out and admit that due to
miscalculations by administrative sports advisors, the President
lost three consecutive 50 yen football bets to Le Duc Tho, and, in