Today’s column contains several different ideas, sort of like a Thanksgiving buffet you can read. Minus the giblets. And hopefully the heartburn.
It all started a few weeks ago. I went to a football game and a rock concert broke out.
It was the perfect Saturday afternoon for UTC Mocs football at Finley Stadium. My son was on my left, my father on my right, some peanut shells at our feet, and somewhere, in the Great Beyond Where There Are No Fumbles or Fourth Downs, the ghost of Scrappy Moore was smiling.
Then Ozzy Osbourne showed up.
Like the early scene out of “Back to the Future” when Marty McFly blows out the stereo speakers, someone in the control booth cranks up the stadium sound system. Between plays on the field and during timeouts, all any of us can hear is the heavy metal anthem “Crazy Train.”