THE BALL COACH LOU HOTZ DIED
Lou Holtz died today.
I don’t adhere to that ridiculous unwritten social commandment of “not speaking ill of the dead.” Just stop it. If anything, right NOW is the perfect time to counter all the glaring gang-banging MAGA-driven platitudes of grotesque hypocrisy with what I’m about to share — which is a far more realistic and balanced evaluation.
Here it goes:
Let me me perfectly clear and brutally honest here. I grew up watching Lou Holtz pacing the sidelines of my sports watching and betting life. The frail-looking ball coach looked more like a math nerd than football legend. He factored into innumerable moments of both ecstasy and agony. From his lowly season coaching the 1976 New York Jets to the renovation of the Arkansas Razorbacks to glory days of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, Lou Holtz evolved with age, matured, and personified a father figure — on and off the field.
After he retired, Lou Holtz sat down in a revealing interview (I think it was with Bob Costas, but I’m not sure). Anyway, Lou Holtz pontificated on life’s lessons. He talked about honesty, decency, taking responsibility. Lou Holtz preached a sermon that would be hard to disagree with, no matter what someone believed in. The noble virtues of humanity remain universal. Do the right thing. Tell the truth. Take responsibility. Be humble. Honor those who are loyal. Be a good person.
Great advice. I remember watching that interview, and tears swelling in my eyes. What a man. What a career. What a coach. What a leader. Had he STOPPED THERE, I could go along. I could still be an admirer. I could pay my respects, even if he was a lifelong Republican who endorsed lots of scumbags, including the dead right-wing bigot Sen. Jesse Helms. No one’s perfect.
Then, the turd shocked everyone who had listened to him preach about honesty and decency for decades as he strutted onstage at the 2020 Republican National Convention and took a massive shit all over everything he stood for over the course of his life, everything he said, everything he espoused. It was a painful moment of grotesque self-discombobulation. Bordering on dementia. It was an emotional meltdown. Like watching prime steak turn to botulism.
The ball coach who lectured millions on doing the right thing. The ball coach who lectured millions on tell the truth. The ball coach who lectured millions on taking personal responsibility. The ball coach who lectured millions on being humble. The ball coach who lectured millions on honoring those who are loyal. The ball coach who lectured millions on being a good person. He didn’t just vote for Trump. He endorsed Trump. He appeared with Trump. He campaigned for Trump. He appeared as a keynote speaker for Trump. Honesty? Decency? Humility? Loyalty? Goodness?
Spare me, you hypocrite.
Lou Holtz was a great football coach. He was also a liar, a charlatan, a deceiver, a faker, an impostor, a fraud, and a fake.
Sure, go ahead and celebrate his excellence as a legendary football coach. I’ll go along with that. But good riddance to him and all his abundant phoniness as a man, a motivator, and an inspiration. In his final years, we saw who Lou Holtz truly is and believes in, and he was nothing to admire nor remember.