GILLETTE STADIUM AND OUR FOOTBALL PATRIOTS

  

GILLETTE STADIUM AND OUR FOOTBALL PATRIOTS

My first excursion to a New England Patriots NFL game was way back in 1979. Then teaching at Groveton High School, I made the long journey to Foxborough with the GHS soccer coach to watch the Patriots crush the Colts 50-21. The next day the Boston Globe ran a major story about drunken and lawless fan behavior accompanied by numerous arrests in and around Foxborough and Shaefer Stadium.

This, of course, invited comments from our fellow GHS faculty members.

“We should have known you guys would cause big trouble down there!”

We pled innocent.

Shaefer Stadium was a no-frills edifice built in 1971 for a mere $6 million. It later was renamed Sullivan Stadium after the team owners. When the Sullivans sold the team it became Foxborough Stadium. The last game played there was in January of 2002—the infamous snow game when Adam Vinatieri kicked a last-second 45-yard field goal in a blizzard to force an overtime against Oakland. It was arguably the greatest kick in NFL history. Vinatieri then kicked another field goal to give Tom Brady and the Patriots a 16-13 win. They went on to win their first Super Bowl.

The team moved to Gillette Stadium the next year, which cost a lot more than $6 million. Actually over $325 million. But the next 20 years saw an unprecedented run of football success at a true jewel of a stadium. It’s probably the only major stadium that’s not located near a major highway, meaning that Pats fans must plan accordingly and get to Foxborough early on game day.

And so it was that N.H. State Representative Tim Lang and I headed to Foxborough on Dec. 26 to watch the showdown between the Patriots and their AFC East rivals from Buffalo—the dreaded Bills.

We got to within three miles of the stadium when we were stuck in the inevitable traffic jam. We paid $40 to park on a homeowner’s lawn and hoofed it the rest of the way to the stadium.

Even at my age I still love the energy and excitement of a big game in front of 65,000 fans with millions more watching on television.

Despite the cold. And the COST.

If you haven’t been to a Pats game lately, then brace yourself and get out a credit card. All the seats cost at least $135, and most cost much more than that. If the Pats end up hosting the AFC Championship game on January 30, then the cheapest ticket will cost $516. Heaven knows what the choice seats would go for. 

But that January 30 scenario became unlikely after the Bills beat the Patriots. Buffalo led throughout—although the Patriots made it interesting when they cut the lead to 26-21 in the fourth quarter. But Bill quarterback Josh Allen then hit tight end Dawson Knox for a late score to seal the Pats’ doom. Final Score: 33-21, Bills.

Neither Allen nor Pats quarterback Mac Jones had great passing stats. But Allen led his team in rushing and even scored a touchdown. A mobile quarterback creates so many opportunities as opposed to a QB like, well, Tom Brady, who never moved all that well. Though Brady may well be the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time), imagine how much better his record and stats would have been if he could have scrambled a bit.

Anyway, Tim and I had reasonably good seats near the field on the 30-yard line. But I didn’t realize that the fans stand there throughout the game. Tiring! Although as I’m over 6-foot-3 watching the action wasn’t a problem for me. Tim, however, is a bit shorter.

At halftime we scanned the stadium and saw two empty corner seats at the very top of the upper deck behind the west end zone. The two worst seats in the stadium.

“You want to check them out?”

“Sure.”

It was a long and difficult journey but after ascending many ramps, passageways, and stairs we made it. The wind was blowing hard up there on the two worst seats at Gillette, but at least we didn’t have to stand up to see the field. And, as a “Man of the People,” Tim wanted to hang out with the non-pretentious fans in the “cheap” seats.

“How much did you pay for your seat?” Tim asked a fan who was sitting next to the two worst seats at Gillette.

“Only $135!”

(I couldn’t help but to think back to my first game at Fenway Park, when I paid $2 to see the Red Sox beat the Indians.)

Of course, being social media aficionados, Tim and I shared Facebook photos and videos of our Gillette sky-views from the stadium’s worst seats.

Oddly, there were consistent responses to our posts.

“You guys are at the Patriots game? That’s definitely TROUBLE!”

We pled innocent.

(Mike Moffett and Tim Lang at their seats at Gillette Stadium's 30-yard line.)

(Mike and Tim's original seats, are circled in red, seen from Gillette Stadium's worst seats.)

RICO AND “The REST of the Story”

 

RICO AND “The REST of the Story” 

Everyone has stories and one of mine involves Red Sox great Rico Petrocelli—an All-Star infielder who played with the BoSox from 1965-76.

A few years ago, Methuen Construction Company of Salem, N.H. invited me to participate in a panel discussion on leadership for its employees. The other panelists were Rico and former New Hampshire Supreme Court Chief Justice John Broderick.

My comments focused on my Marine Corps experiences and I brought several copies of my book FAHIM SPEAKS, which I’d co-authored with Hollywood actor and USMC interpreter Fahim Fazli—whom I’d met in Afghanistan. Afterwards Rico offered to sign a baseball for me if I’d sign a book for him.

As a 12-year-old I’d watched Rico shine in the 1967 World Series which saw the St. Louis Cardinals beat the BoSox in seven games. Rico helped force Game 7 with two home runs in Game 6 and he’d always been a hero. The notion of one day sharing a dais with Rico and then autographing a book for him would have been unimaginable for that 12-year-old watching Rico’s World Series heroics.

My remarks included some sports talk and Rico subsequently invited me to bring a friend to golf with him at Sky Meadow in Nashua. I took him up on his offer and brought Plymouth State baseball coach Dennis McManus with me to Nashua for a memorable sports outing with the Red Sox legend, who paid for everything while regaling us with baseball talk during golf and afterwards.

And Rico actually read my book, as evidenced by his astute questions and comments.  What a class act he was, to give us such a great day and new sports stories to share.

Then, as radio great Paul Harvey used to say, there’s also “The rest of the story.”

Fast forward to autumn, 2021. I received a surprise message from a friend asking if I could somehow connect her with Rico Petrocelli. She explained that she was helping care for a paralyzed neighbor in hospice. Her suffering patient's passion was the Red Sox and Rico was a favorite, as evidenced by the Petrocelli photos adorning his quarters. Was there any way Rico could do a “shout-out” to her beleaguered neighbor?

I replied that I had Rico’s phone number from that earlier encounter. I contacted the Red Sox great and passed on her entreaty and shared her contact information.

My friend later contacted me and tearfully explained that Rico not only did a “shout-out” but actually made a surprise visit to her stricken neighbor’s home. Then it was my turn to tear up. For someone as busy as Rico is to find time for such a trip was very inspiring and a wonderful reminder of how simple gestures by some can create priceless memories for others.

The greatest Red Sox player ever, Ted Williams, was famously irascible and profane. But the Splendid Splinter had a softer side, as evidenced by secret trips he’d make to hospitals to comfort youngsters in dire straits—under the condition that no one speak of his visits outside of family.

I didn’t ask Rico’s permission to write about his visit to Bristol, N.H., because à la Ted Williams, I’m sure he’d ask that I not.  But sometimes—especially nowadays—we can all use a little inspiration and a “good news” story.

So thank you, Rico Petrocelli, not only for those long-ago October 1967 World Series homers but also for that November 2021 “Grand Slam” you hit for a special Granite State fan.

And to again paraphrase the great Paul Harvey: “Now you know the rest of the story!”

#####

Photo 1)  Sports columnist Mike Moffett, former Red Sox great Rico Petrocelli, and retired Plymouth State baseball coach Dennis McManus at Sky Meadow Country Club in Nashua.

Photo 2) Mike Moffett with Rico Petrocelli at 2016 leadership panel discussion.

 

Moses and basketball’s “Promised Land”

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  During his time at Plymouth State, Jean-Pierre was a lightning-quick guard who once scored 53 points in a game.

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  Moses Jean-Pierre, shown recently in Kigali, Rwanda, is helping to promote basketball in Africa. Courtesy photos

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A social media devotee, I recently saw a Facebook post from Kigali, Rwanda, authored by former Plymouth State basketball star Moses Jean-Pierre. He was there doing work for the NBA-Africa hoop league — of all things and of all places.

Intriguing.

A subsequent FB message to MJ-P led to a phone conversation where Moses shared some pretty cool b-ball news. But before sharing the hoop gouge, a bit of history …

In the beginning

As a Plymouth State University sports information director three decades ago, I once produced a promotion piece highlighting Jean-Pierre’s hardcourt exploits. It was entitled “Moses is Leading Plymouth’s Basketball Panthers to the Promised Land.” The flyer had a photo and listed Jean-Pierre’s accomplishments, awards, and stats.

A favorite MJ-P memory was of a home game against the University of Southern Maine where Moses scored his team’s last 21 points in regulation to force an overtime from which the Panthers emerged triumphant. MJ-P finished with a record 53 points.

I particularly loved Jean-Pierre’s bounce passes. When opponents would double-team MJ-P, no-look bounce passes to teammates would set up pretty scores. So while Moses was certainly a scorer, he was also a team player.

Moses would indeed lead the Panthers to a “Promised Land” when Plymouth advanced to the ECAC Finals in 1994.

The son of Haitian immigrants, MJ-P grew up in greater Boston and graduated from Cathedral High School — where he is enshrined in the CHS Sports Hall of Fame. (He’s also a Plymouth State Hall of Fame inductee.)

Moses went to Maine Central Institute for a post-graduate year where he caught the attention of Plymouth State coach Paul Hogan, who convinced the six-foot speedster to come to “The Home of The Panthers.” The rest is history, a history which included a record 2000-plus career points.

Now director of athletics and head men’s basketball coach at NHTI-Concord, Hogan recalls MJ-P fondly.

“Moses could dominate a game at both ends of the court,” recalled Hogan. “His defense was exemplified by quickness and ball pressure. Offensively, his ability to penetrate and push the ball was extraordinary. He was an easy player to coach but incredibly hard for opponents to strategize against. And most importantly, Moses loved to win.”

MJ-P went on to play professionally in Turkey and Britain and was on the NBA’s radar screen when a knee injury ended his professional hoop aspirations. So Moses redirected from the hoop world to the entertainment world. He developed new skills in the areas of booking and promotions and eventually became road manager for comedian Michael Blackson. He also co-owned an Atlanta lounge for over six years. But while you could take MJ-P out of basketball, you couldn’t take basketball out of MJ-P.

Going international

So that history segment brings us to Kigali. How did Jean-Pierre come to make that Facebook post from an African venue so distant from Boston, Plymouth or Atlanta?

“I’d returned to New England a few years ago and saw that fellow Plymouth State grad Eric Wilson was doing some sports outreach to Haiti focusing on rugby,” explained Moses. “I wondered if maybe basketball could be included in the mix. I sent him a message and eventually, we partnered up.”

The result was Hoops for Haiti, an international sports initiative in MJ-P’s parents’ homeland that not only supported basketball in that impoverished nation but also created a potential conduit to bring Haitian hoop aspirants to America to pursue their basketball dreams.

Moses’ entrepreneurial inclinations also led him to create JP12 Sports and Entertainment, which among other things involves scouting for basketball talent — an endeavor for which MJ-P is particularly well-suited, given his basketball skills and feel for the game. He later contracted as a scout for Zambia’s Unza basketball team that competes in the NBA-Africa league — which is sanctioned by FIBA, the international basketball governing body. Moses is helping to strengthen the loop’s NBA ties.

Jean-Pierre met league president Amadon Gallo Fall of Senegal at a hoop event at a Brooklyn Nets facility. Like MJ-P, Fall had played American college ball — at the University of District Columbia — and soon Moses was involved with NBA-Africa itself. Hence the Facebook post from Kigali.

While many associate Rwanda with the horrific genocide associated with the 1994 civil war there, Moses lauded the state of the country today.

“Kigali is now a clean, modern city,” explained Jean-Pierre. “And there are definitely players with NBA potential playing in Africa.”

MJ-P added that traveling to and from Kigali involves patience and endurance but that he enjoys his new role as an international basketball ambassador of sorts.

“Fortunately, most of the people I deal with speak English,” he said.

Sports bring people together from all nations. Subsequent friendships and business relationships increase cross-cultural awareness and appreciation while countering the currents of conflict and prejudice. Every player that Moses brings from Haiti or Africa to America — the Promised Land — becomes, like Moses, an international goodwill ambassador.

And the more such goodwill ambassadors we create, the better our world becomes.

One bounce pass at a time.

 

Educating Ed on Easter

As a legislator, columnist/blogger, educator, and quasi-raconteur, I enjoy back-and-forth regarding sports, politics, movies and more. But I generally avoid getting into religion. Still, as someone who feels that vibrant religious communities with their associated values and activities are important parts of a healthy society, I sometimes get “cognitive dissonance” about avoiding the topic.

Some might call it “conscience.”

Which brings me to a friend I’ll call “Ed.” He’s a non-believer with whom I have conversed about religion. Being a former Marine, I once asked Ed if he believed Marines had esprit de corps.

“Of course,” said Ed.

What does it mean?

“French expression meaning “spirit of the corps,’” replied Ed. “A common feeling of pride and purpose that motivates a group. Sure, Marines have it in spades.”

Can other groups have it?

“Sure. Teams, clubs, organizations. If they have good leadership and common goals.”

So you believe in this esprit, or spirit? Even though you can’t see or touch it?

“Yes,” laughed Ed. “Of course.”

Can a religious group also be animated or motivated by an esprit de corps, like Marines or teams or clubs?

“Why not?” said Ed.

So what if religious folks claim they’re motivated by a special esprit de corps that they refer to as a holy spirit?

Ed is silent. Having already acknowledged the existence of an intangible esprit, he won’t use the English word for it. He saw where I was going. To admit the existence of a Holy Spirit — which is what some religious folks refer to as an animating esprit that inspires them—is essentially to admit the existence of God, in that some Christian doctrines describe the Holy Spirit as the third person of the Trinity, or God as spiritually active in the world.

Without listing names, there are many transformative figures throughout human history who, clearly inspired by a certain esprit (Holy Spirit?) have provided humankind with lessons, parables, belief structures, and inspiration to live good and productive lives. And happy ones too.

Countless surveys and research document that the religious are more generous and happier than non-religious. With exceptions of course. But the data is out there. Google away.

I ask Ed to consider the incredible good work that programs like Catholic Charities do around the world – effectively and efficiently. What do atheist charities do? Might Ed be happier if he donated wherewithal or energy to one of the many wonderful religious charities?

“I pay taxes,” says Ed. “The government does a lot of good work.”

Of course.

“And I don’t need to go to church for a spiritual experience. I can get that by climbing a mountain.”

But isn’t that a bit narcissistic? Isn’t there strength in numbers and value to being part of a group or community animated by an esprit/spirit to do public good and help people?

Ed laughed.

But at least he didn’t get personal. A challenge for some of us when we summon up the nerve to talk about religion or values is that we must brace for personal criticism.

“Who are you to talk about this stuff, given all your foibles, flaws, and sins? And what about all the hypocritical religious people who do bad things?”

Sigh. Some require an unattainable measure of perfection from the inherently imperfect before engaging about religion — a measure not expected from others.

But we drift away from our historical religious roots at our own peril. Witness the growing coarseness, alienation and violence that seem to accompany America’s increasing secularization. New Hampshire is rated as the least religious state. It also features about the highest rate of substance abuse. A correlation?

History is replete with religious conflict. True. As well as plenty of anti-religious violence. After the horrific French Revolution, Paris’s Notre Dame Cathedral was converted by the secular to what they called a “Temple of Reason.” After the horrific Russian Revolution, official atheism shut down the churches. Soviet dictator Josef Stalin ridiculed religious influence, asking “How many divisions can the Pope deploy?”

Funny thing though. Notre Dame Cathedral eventually returned to religious splendor. And churches are now open all over Russia – even if some are closing in Concord. The Holy Spirit can be ridiculed, quashed, or denied, but it’s apparently eternal as it provides hope and inspiration for individuals and communities to pursue kinder, gentler paths.

Easter Sunday is April 4. A chance for Ed to pick out a church and perhaps witness some real “esprit” first-hand!

FLORIDA GOLF, DEEP SEA FISHING, AND POLITICS

 

FLORIDA GOLF, DEEP SEA FISHING, AND POLITICS

I occasionally socialize and play golf with some fellow Granite State legislators who are part of the “Beer Caucus.” (Motto: “We have fun and we get things done!”)

While recently discussing weekend golf options, one of these fun-loving solons suggested playing in Florida, as opposed to New Hampshire.

“It’s flat and warm and there’s no poison ivy,” this brilliant lawmaker pointed out.

So being men of action we booked flights to Fort Lauderdale, rented a BnB, and made reservations for a tee-time at the world-class Trump National Doral Golf Resort.

(“We have fun and we get things done.”)

We viewed the weekend trip as a good-will, fact-finding mission.

Trump Doral was opulent, palatial and jaw-dropping. It actually consisted of several courses. We opted for the Silver Course—which was most affordable. It meant a long, long drive in our golf carts to get out to the first tee, but the weather was fine and spirits were high.

“Do you think there will be a beer cart?” asked one thoughtful legislator.

“Fingers crossed,” replied the chairman of the House Committee on Environment and Agriculture.

The Silver Course indeed had a traveling beer cart, capably managed by Carol, who was advised to regularly find and check-in with our foursome. The libation cost was quite high—perhaps an insight as to why the club owner became a billionaire.

But undaunted and with spirits soaring, we teed off.

We soon discovered that while Trump Doral was flat and warm that there was water everywhere! Some of us soon had to borrow golf balls from the one good golfer amongst us—the former Assistant Minority Floor Leader.

After finishing the front nine, we tallied our scores. Not pretty.

“We’ll do better on the back nine now that we’re warmed up.”

But it was not clear where the tenth tee was.

“I’m a trained land navigator,” explained the Vice-Chair of the House Committee on State-Federal Relations and Veterans Affairs. “I think it’s over that way.”

But ten minutes later we were still driving around searching.

“Where the heck is Carol when we need her?”

We emerged from the wooded golf cart path only to find we were on the 16^th fairway.

“Let’s ask those golfers for directions.”

“No. They’ll think we’re idiots.”

“I don’t care.”

But when we explained our predicament the golfers on the 16^th tee said they too had gotten lost after nine holes. It took them 30 minutes to find the tenth tee. They pointed us in the right direction and we soon found the tenth tee—where Carol was waiting.

The back nine was fun, although the scoring didn’t improve. Fortunately, we found a few balls while foraging in the rough so we could finish the round.

Despite everything, we had fun, lots of laughs, and were better and wiser for the experience.

“I wish I could vote for you guys,” said Carol.

“Sorry, but out-of-staters can’t vote in New Hampshire.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

We then had to decide what to do the next day before flying north.

“How about deep-sea fishing?” suggested the chair of the House Committee on Fish and Game and Marine Resources.

We agreed that such an excursion would align with our fact-finding good-will mission. We signed on to a fishing boat out of Miami, figuring that having deposited so many golf balls into the water, we might as well take some fish out of the water.

Unfortunately, while the three-hour tour was fun, we returned to shore with only sunburns. But we were better and wiser for the experience.

While we spent plenty of money in Florida, we were enriched by meeting and sharing notes and business cards with interesting people. Networking is important. And the synergy we developed during our public policy discussions yielded some ideas as to good things we might do back in New Hampshire. We all fell asleep on the return flight.

But ….

(“We have fun and we get things done!”)

Tim Lang, Mike Moffett, Reed Panasiti, and Howard Pearl

  Arnold Palmer

SHOOTERS, SANDERS, AND HOOP MEMORIES

                                SHOOTERS, SANDERS, AND HOOP MEMORIES

Actor Dennis Hopper played a wonderful character named “Shooter” in the basketball movie Hoosiers, which also starred Gene Hackman and Barbara Hershey. The classic sports flick was inspired by the small town Indiana basketball culture of the early 1950s.

Shooter was the alcoholic father of a player on the Hickory High School team, coached by the Hackman character. Early on, Shooter recollected his moment of potential hoop glory when as a high school senior he had the ball for a last-second shot during the state basketball tournament that would have won the game.

“Around the rim and out,” lamented Shooter as he took another sip on his beer. His missed shot forever haunted him.

We all have our sports stories—mostly boring to others, but precious to us.

Anyone who has ever made a hole-in-one certainly has license to relive their wonderful moment at the 19^th Hole. Just not too often.

But special sports memories are sometimes shareable. Especially when you write a sports column and face an approaching deadline.

Which brings me to Tom “Satch” Sanders.

A longtime Boston Celtic whose #16 hangs in the Boston Garden rafters, Sanders and fellow Celtic forward Don Nelson (#19) used to run the Nelson-Sanders Basketball School, which I attended one summer in Manchester with some of my Groveton High School hoop teammates.

The 6-foot-6 Sanders had just completed his 13^th and final season with the Celtics, and during a lull in the schedule he was shooting some balls with some campers. I approached the NBA standout and challenged him to play me one-on-one. Sanders laughed and rolled his eyes. He was probably used to young guns challenging him in this fashion.

“All right,” he finally responded. “Let’s do this.”

He agreed to play “Make it, take it.” Seven baskets wins. The Celtic star quickly and easily went up 5-0. But then he missed a shot which I rebounded and I dribbled out to the top of the key and sized up my opponent, who was known as a premier NBA defensive forward.

I launched a jumper from 20 feet.

Swish.

Then another.

Around the rim and in.

Then I dribbled right and launched another 20 footer, which went in off the backboard. Lucky shot.

Sanders laughed and threw me the ball and came out to swallow me up defensively. I faked another jumper and managed to dart by him for a runner from close in.

5-4.

A crowd had started to gather, which usually brought out the best in me. I was “in the zone,” suddenly oozing with confidence. I tried another jumper which Sanders partially blocked but I beat him to the loose ball and went in for a layup.

5-5.

By this time there were many campers watching us and cheering me on. Perfect.

Sanders threw me the ball and I faked left and drove right and launched a running fifteen foot hook shot from the baseline.

Swish. 6-5.

Now I had a chance for the winning shot. Full of confidence, “in the zone,” inspired by the growing crowd of onlookers, and visualizing victory, I again drove right and launched another long hook shot.

Off the backboard, around the rim … and IN !

Game!

Sanders stared at me, then laughed and just shook his head.

A college basketball coach was watching. He approached me and asked what my post-high school plans were. A golden moment.

Sanders went on to coach at Harvard for a while before returning to the Boston Garden’s parquet floor to coach the Celtics.

Years later, some fraternity brothers and I went to a Celtics-Spurs game at the Garden. Of course we enjoyed a libation or two on the way to Boston. Once inside the Garden one friend and I went down to stand on the historic parquet. We noticed a couple empty press seats at the scorers table. (This was before the Larry Bird era. The Celtics weren’t very good and seats were easy to find.)

We waited for someone to send us away from the table but no one did. So we stayed there with perfect seats for the first half. Sanders was still head coach and at halftime he walked by the scorers table and did a double take when he saw me sitting there.

“Groveton Slim!” said Sanders. “Are you still shooting that hook shot?”

My friend’s jaw dropped. Another golden sports moment.

Shooter would have been proud.

   

(Alamy.Com)                                                     (Getty.com)

                                                                                                                

NEVILLE CHAMBERLAIN, MEDIA BIAS, AND CANDLES

                            NEVILLE CHAMBERLAIN, MEDIA BIAS, AND CANDLES

 

By Mike Moffett

 

 

Former Congressman Lamar S. Smith echoed the sentiments of many when he stated that “The greatest threat to America is liberal media bias.”

 

Likeminded thinkers have written many books, compiled numerous statistics, and created mountains of evidence purporting to document the leftist slant in American news reporting. Google away if you’re interested. 

 

An independent and credible media establishment is vital to successful democracy. Our founders understood this and freedom of speech was enshrined in the very first amendment to our constitution. An independent media publicly holds government accountable to the people. When press freedoms are extinguished then tyrannical governments create their own news realities. Think Joseph Goebbels, Baghdad Bob, or any Pravda editor. Not coincidentally, things ended badly for the aforementioned and their totalitarian regimes.

 

But democracies are immune to such fates, correct?

 

Emphatically no. Congressman Smith was on to something. Eternal vigilance is indeed the price of liberty. Some history can illuminate.

 

Ponder a case study of conservative media bias that proved deadly and tragic.

 

During the late 1930s, Tory British Prime Ministers Stanley Baldwin and Neville Chamberlain presided over a parliament dominated by conservatives. Faced with a growing threat from Germany and the Nazis, this conservative establishment conducted a policy of appeasement, seeking to placate Adolf Hitler by giving him what he wanted in hoping to avoid war. In retrospect, the Tory policies were disastrous, leading to mankind’s greatest conflagration. But most Brits had little idea of what was unfolding.

 

Conservatives dominated not only parliament but also the British newspaper world—as well as the British Broadcasting Corporation. Tory whips cracked hard to kill news or commentary that conflicted with conservative policies or the Tory line. Voices of prescient statesmen like Winston Churchill were suppressed. Those who warned of true German intent were ridiculed as warmongers.

 

Opposition Liberal/Labor newspapers were also cowed, due to political, financial, and other considerations. Subsequently, most Brits remained perilously uninformed.

 

Famed American journalist Martha Gellhorn traveled throughout Europe during the 1930s and was horrified by the growing Nazi danger. But she was equally horrified during a visit to England to find that due to conservative news suppression most Brits had little idea of the existential threat they faced. (Read Lynne Olson’s “Troublesome Young Men.”)

 

Instead of preparing for conflict, Chamberlain and company continued their largely unchallenged and disastrous appeasement policies—aided and abetted by that dominant conservative media bias. Fortunately, after war finally broke out, the emergence of Churchill as prime minister along with the English Channel, German miscalculations, and an eventual Grand Alliance eventually saved Britain and western civilization.

 

So democracies can certainly be failed by their “free” press. So is Lamar Smith correct in claiming that liberal media bias now threatens our country, as conservative media bias earlier almost ruined Britain?

 

A 2020 Gallup Poll indicated only 9% of Americans have “a great deal” of trust in our media, while 60% have little or no trust in our press people. That our media establishment overwhelmingly opposed President Trump was quite obvious (Google away). While Trump deserves a measure of blame for his brawling approach and for picking fights with publishers who buy ink by the barrel, what ever happened to objective journalism? Don’t expect good answers from the likes of ABC’s George Stephanopoulos, or from other network news people, most of whom, like Stephanopoulos, are liberals—if not former Democrat operatives.

 

Did the Trump administration receive due attention re: achieving energy independence? For amazing Middle East peace breakthroughs? For record stock market and employment numbers? For successfully supporting the development of a COVID vaccine that became available months earlier than originally projected?

 

But did the Biden campaign receive due scrutiny on a wide range of issues?

 

Eventually historians will weigh in and their judgments will likely be harsh. Objective journalism has demonstrably given way to institutional partisan advocacy. A similar dynamic exists in academia, but that’s another column.

 

The Lamar Smiths of the world fear that our overwhelmingly liberal media establishment will veer our country onto a dangerous road leading to statist socialism, less freedom, a loss of our national identity, and disaster.

 

A new Washington Post slogan claims that “Democracy dies in Darkness.” I agree. Lights need to be shined. Thankfully, Churchill and his followers figuratively lit enough candles to show the way to victory, despite the disastrous conservative media bias of the 1930s.

 

The time has come to shine light on the dangers of current liberal media bias in America.

 

Thank you for allowing me to light this one candle here at this time.

Neville Chamberlain and Adolf Hitler (N.Y. Times.Com)