Amazing, but the plea is the same as when I wrote this blog 50 odd days ago…
Under one hundred days to the ballot box and the presidential Play-Doh is taking the shape of a cliffhanger. I don’t know about you, but I am in no mood for squeakers. A good ole barn-burner would suit me just fine. It’s now or never. Let’s have at it.
The time has come to get in the game and un-tie the polls. It is not as though the choice isn’t clear. The chasm between the candidates’ worldviews is epic. If you missed the clues about the President’s agenda last time, you have no excuse now. His velvet gloves are off and his boxing mitts are on.
And speaking of mitts, the challenger isn’t playing softball, either. Or is he?
Before I throw down my cap and kick the dirt, some reality: Mitt Romney is not the baddest hombre on the diamond. I’m not saying he’s not a pol. He is. He proved it to Gingrich and Santorum earlier in the season. But for the big game, he’s sticking to issues and passing on cheap shots.
That’s commendable. We are desperate for decency. But finesse isn’t enough. America is teetering on the edge of someplace we’ve never been before. Next season might never come for the country we used to know. Play clean, Mitt, but play hardball. You’re a contender, and you’ve got to throw some heat. Not insinuations, division, and spaghetti-against-the-wall stuff, but some high inside strikes. Put something on that ball. Let it slice through the issues. Catch your opponent looking, already. We ain’t got all day.
You’re playing in the bigs, Mitt. There is no tenth inning, so step up to the rubber and own it.