Free Republic

I share your frustration at what seems to be complete inaction. Just not right.

If the team is in contention, and the weather is decent, people will fill the stadium.

Did not happen during the recent Steelers-Patriots game.

Look....it is obvious from your posts that you have a lot of interest in the NFL, and that you are whistling past the graveyard. You are right that the NFL has not yet lost a lot of money, because revenues are based upon already negotiated broadcast deals. When it comes time to do that, the NFL will be in a horrible position and will lose money. They will pay their spoiled BLM players less....who will strike....and that will be that.

What you don’t seem to get is that there are millions of fans like me who used to love the NFL....I was a devout Broncos fan....who are now so upset at being lectured and disrespected by a bunch of rich spoiled felon thugs that we are leaving the game. The young generation is not filling the gap. The NFL will not die, but it will become a shadow of its former glory.

And the failure is well deserved. The sons-o-bitches running the league have earned what is coming to them. I hope they choke and die on it.

By the way...if you are still supporting the NFL then YOU are also disrespecting the flag. I hope it is worth it to you being such a traitor to our country

He’s really become an A$$hole.

Merry Christmas! You are right about your FR family.

Christmas Steak sounds great!

This guy is an idiot.

True, Trump is doing great things, but the mindless attacks on people like Nikki Haley and Vice President Pence are totally uncalled for....especially when they are doing their jobs so well.

Guys like the author of the youtube video are an embarrassment.

“Call me when there are dead muslims found on the streets of Malmo every morning. Until then, Sweden, I have no sympathy for you girly men.”

^^^THIS^^^

Agreed. She’s doing a bang-up job.

She...and Sarah Huckabee-Sanders....bring utter delight to me every time they speak. Trump really picked a couple of winners with them!

He’d better show up with his lawyer in tow......

Mueller, McCabe, weissmann, Rosenstein, SESSIONS, etal are TOTALLY CORRUPT!!!

Fixed that for you.

Of course they can. They can do any damn thing they want to do......Jeff Sessions says so!

Lol. Beautiful!

“Plus you don’t know how to discuss issues like adults.”

Oh? I have tried the adult approach. I want to believe thaf Sessions is a good guy. I have BEGGED for evidence supporting that.....one arrest....on indictment....one ANYTHING.

Nothing. So I am inclined to continue to believe that Sessions is at best incompetent, at worst a traitor, because I have circumstantial evidence in that direction.

Just because I don’t believe you flat-earthers when you spout your 3-D chess conspiracies does not make me any less of an adult or less of a Trump supporter.

SHOW ME SOMETHING! Until then, shut up.

“Apologies if I don’t hold my breath”

Exactly. For one thing, Sessions would never allow it.

SMFH

I just don’t understand why some otherwise normal freepers are so locked into this 4D chess thing with Mueller and the IG working with Trump. It is obvious to most people that Obama appointees are going to work for Obama.

I just don’t get it.

Now THAT’S a headline!

Corrupt congress critters control Sessions.

But wait.....Everybody is saying that Trump and Mueller are playing 4D chess and are working together!!!! Hurrah!!! We’re saved!!!

/Sarc

“The prosecution might end this since we have DJT as POTUS. We’ll see”

Pigs may fly, too. Our attorney General is Jeff Sessions. He has been very praising of the way the prosecution was handling this case.

“I’m ready to fight against the democrats/Marxists who have destroyed America.”

And I will be right there with you. I’m just as pissed as anyone else. But.....consider this for a moment. It is a relatively short read:

The War Prayer

by Mark Twain

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory with stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener.

It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.

Sunday morning came — next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams — visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender!

Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:

God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest,
Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!

Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory —

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord and God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside — which the startled minister did — and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

“I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think. “God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two — one uttered, and the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this — keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon your neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain on your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse on some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

“You have heard your servant’s prayer — the uttered part of it. I am commissioned by God to put into words the other part of it — that part which the pastor — and also you in your hearts — fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard the words ‘Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory — must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

“Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended in the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames in summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it —

For our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimmage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet!

We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(After a pause.) “Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits.”

...

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.