Originally published April 24, 2015.
It was a day that should have belonged to the Super Bowl Champion New England Patriots, but in a reversal of last February’s fortune it came to a dramatic and sudden halt.
Interception, Obama.
The president called a very different play as the champs gathered at the White House South Lawn to accept an attaboy for their Super Bowl victory.
But the egotist-in-chief made it all about him.
“I usually tell a bunch of jokes at these events” he mused, “but with the Patriots in town I was worried that 11 of 12 of them would fall flat.”
Ugh, a Deflategate joke.
Only in Seattle on Super Bowl Sunday did the oxygen leave the room quicker. There is more oxygen in Seattle Slew.
The joke was so insulting and shocking to the players that the president swiveled around in a desperate attempt to implore some laughter.
No go.
Some nervous giggles only served to exacerbate the awkwardness.
Belichick gave a “thumbs down” gesture and Robert Kraft barely contained his contempt through a visibly-pained smile.
And so, like so many occasions in which a glorious spotlight is set to shine on Americans of great achievement, the diva-in-chief dives headfirst into the glare.
Yesterday was not about the Patriots. It was about Barack Obama, and if it took a disrespectful and tired reference to a scandal meant to discredit the team to nudge the attention to the world’s most famous show-off then so be it.
The Obama dynasty trumps all others which is why a sports setting is so important to the president. It is where real and verifiable merit is rewarded and Barack Obama is starving for it.
Thus the Shecky Greene routine. It gets him extra minutes in every news package in the country, however lame or disrespectful.
And did I say lame?
On Malcom Butler. He’s “earned a lifetime of free drinks in every ‘bahhhh in Bahhhston.’ ”
Ouch.
And so it was, all of New England and our football team robbed of what should have been a great day so that Obama could celebrate himself in a relentless and narcissistic end zone dance.
If you were unlucky enough to endure the awkward and pathetic display by the president at the White House yesterday, you can at least take comfort in knowing that the play clock on this vain administration mercifully runs out in January of 2017, meaning the next Superbowl champs will be the last to be eclipsed by Barack Obama.
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