So some referees screwed up a call during a college football game a few days ago. Now, because of it, one ref has taken a leave of absence and some of the refs have received death threats.
Death threats.
For a football game.
I don't normally curse but... what the fuck is wrong with America?
We accuse radical Islamic groups of being evil, of being wrong to use religion as a reason to commit violence. We call them animals, we call them scum. We cringe at the supposed insanity of religious zealotry that influences people to become suicide bombers, to crash planes into world trade centers and pentagons, to sail fishing boats into warships. And yet, here we are, a people who would terrorize a guy because he mucked up a call during a football game.
A football game.
9/11 was just five years ago. How easily these foolish Americans forget.
I was late for work that morning. Not only did I completely miss the bus I normally take, but an X1 was pulling away from the stop when I got there, so I had to wait for the next one.
Consequently we were speeding down Hylan boulevard when someone on the bus with a radio said quietly, "They're saying a plane just hit the World Trade Center." We were smack dab in the middle of the Verrazzano bridge, stuck in traffic, just in time to see the second plane explode into a fireball against the second tower.
My mouth went dry, and chills ran up my spine. I remember thinking, "This can't have been an accident." The bus turned around and didn't take us to Manhattan. All the passengers were dropped off at the foot of the bridge's Staten Island side. I had to walk from there to Fort Wadsworth where Kuya was working at the time. They were sending him home early as well.
We were at McDonald's getting breakfast for Beau when the news broadcasts announced that the towers collapsed. I felt like throwing up.
All throughout the morning it was hard to get in touch with people. Cellphones were down, land lines were overloaded, and I found it odd that the only form of communication available to my brothers and me were instant messages and e-mail. It was a harrowing day mainly because I didn't know where many of my friends or my dad were -- nor did they know were I was.
Later on that night I realized how lucky I was. Had I been able to catch my regular bus, timing would have put me underneath the towers just as they got hit.