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Forgive me for sounding like a flip-flopping politician when I say my position on the World Series evolved from benign neglect to rabidly rooting home the victorious Los Angeles Dodgers.

That’s why, in the wake of the 5-4 Los Angeles triumph Saturday night/Sunday morning in an 11-inning Game 7, I’m here to rub salt in open Canadian wounds.

I’m not alone. A quick scan of social media began with the X page of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney (Barker) and it did not disappoint.

Like too many hosers from the Great White North (a climate, not racial characterization) Carney Barker has attempted to leverage sporting success into national pride.

A so-called Carney curse has been detected since he has showed up just in time to sink hopes of the Edmonton Oilers, the Canadian men’s soccer team and now, the Toronto Blue Jays.

Carney Barker took to his X account in the immediate aftermath of this latest setback and used a fractured heart emoji to characterize it as a heartbreaking result. He went on to praise the Jays in coming up short, but trying hard and in the process making Canada so proud.

Responses were priceless. Here are a few examples.

“Carney, you are Prime Minister, do something about this.”

“Now you know how Canadians feel watching you strike out on trade deals.”

“No one understands didn’t get it done quite like Carney.”

“This is an interesting take given that only one of the 26 players on the Jays WS roster were born in Canada, and IDK if Vlad Jr. identifies as more Canadian or more Dominican.”

“As a Canadian, I’m glad they lost just so you wouldn’t be able to brag about it. Let’s consider this another American triumph over Canada!”

Elsewhere, headlines screamed of mourning, very sad Blue Jays fans and a crushing loss. Imagine how sad these Jays fans will be if they start losing thousands of jobs due to tariff problems. Trade accounts for about two-thirds of Canada’s GDP and most of that is with the United States.

Back to the World Series, it began with some tepid, uninteresting games. But, along the way, it gathered momentum and produced some epic contests.

I tuned in to Game 3 in the 7^th inning of a 5-5 game. The game ran for 18 innings, equaling a World Series record. It had Dodger Shohei Ohtani reach base on all nine plate appearances, clubbing two homers and two doubles before the Jays walked him five times, four of those intentional.

Dodgers first baseman Freddie Freeman hit a walkoff homerun, for a record second time in his World Series career, to end the marathon game.

That win gave the Dodgers a 2-1 series lead, but they coughed it up with losses in Game 4 and Game 5, sending them back to Toronto needing to win twice to secure back-to-back championships.

Blue Jays fans were planning their victory celebrations, but the Dodgers won both games, sending the home fans into the Toronto night to ponder yet another failure to finish the deal. Recall, this is a city whose NHL franchise has not won a Stanley Cup since 1967.

Game 7 was a classic, again requiring extra innings, this time 11. It saw the Blue Jays drop leads of 3-0 and 4-2. The Dodgers entered the 9^th trailing 4-3 and got an unlikely homerun from Miguel Rojas, just his second of the season off right-handed pitching, to tie the game. In the bottom of the ninth, second baseman Rojas threw out the potential winning run at home.

Eventual Series MVP, Dodgers pitcher Yoshinobu Yamamoto, got the win, his third of the Series, after Dodgers catcher Will Smith lashed a homer in the top of the 11^th. Yamamoto had pitched a complete game in Game 2, 96 pitches in Game 6 and then tossed the final 2 2/3 innings to close Game 7 a night later. Incredible, particularly in an era when starting pitchers think making it through five innings is a quality effort.

Let’s not forget the fourth-inning tiff that revived memories of the 4-Nations Face-Off between the U.S. and Canada. While some headlines screamed “brawl” it was more a meet-and-greet after a No. 9 Blue Jays hitter with delusions of grandeur based on his unexpected batting prowess in this Series, somehow thought he had been hit intentionally by a Dodgers pitcher with no one on base and the top of the batting order up next.

I had written previously that both teams losing would be a fitting result, but I came to understand it was better to keep the title in these United States.

Yes, Los Angeles is a leftist city where illegals get prime consideration and English is a second language. But, the Dodgers won the World Series in quintessential American fashion. They showed grit and determination, and spent a whole lot of money to get it done.

Along the way, they reminded Canada of the international pecking order, including in sports. And they just might have given pause to the prominent American socialists like Bernie, AOC and Mamdani.

Free enterprise still prevails.

Holy Sputnik, Elon Musk seems to have solved my internet access woes.

Readers will recall me lamenting (whining) about my problems with providers of internet connections. It continued to amaze me that, sitting here in the Johnstown suburb of Southmont Borough late in 2025, providers were inconsistent, nonexistent for me, or combinations of both.

It reminded me of a time years back when my brother and mother lived in Lorain Borough and any time it rained, got windy, or was sunny, their electrical service was about an even bet to fail.

Said my brother at time, it was like living in Baghdad.

My problems getting a reliable way to connect my computers to the internet gave me similar emotions.

As a quick recap, Breezeline for years had provided me a slow speed of broadband that both sales and tech people alike were amazed still was available. And, that slow service was intermittent at best. I had signed up to get text alerts about outages and let me say the old cell phone got a workout from those.

My most agonizing problem was the time in mid-September when I was preparing to buy 1,000 shares of OPEN stock, but got a text from Breezeline about outages in my area. Although my internet still was working, my wife alerted me to a Breezeline truck parked directly across the street in front of our house.

This was late in the trading session, shortly before 4 p.m. I wanted to babysit the trade, monitoring it closely both at the end of the regular session and into the extended hours, which runs from 4:05 until 8.

Side note: One can often get great executions in extended market trading because, while volume is low, some people put in market orders instead of limit orders, and so can buy at inflated ask prices.

Investors know that if you put in a hard stop-loss order at any time, others on higher levels of stock information can see that, target the stop to blow out your position, then allow the stock to run under their new ownership.

I passed on the OPEN buy due to the internet access uncertainty. Shortly after the regular session ended and extended trading began, it was announced a former CEO of OPEN was returning and the stock rocketed up more than $4 a share. So, in about 20 minutes I missed the opportunity to make a quick $4,000.

Color me miffed, and incentivized to do something.

T-Mobile was available for $75 a month and I tried, only to find after the fact the $75 rate was NOT available in my area, but, magically, $165 or so was. I returned my T-Mobile equipment during the 14-day free trial and now am attempting to get them to stop billing me for $165 or so.

I canceled Breezeline Sept. 29, but their policy is to prolong things a month. I still am getting angry texts from them about owing money. I do not, other than the $8 or so I was quoted as a pro-rated amount.

AT&T wireless is not available to me, nor is Blade, or other services.

A cousin, whose options are few due to living in a rural area, had contemplated Musk’s Starlink satellite option, based on internet research and word-of-mouth endorsements. He ended up getting it. His early reports were positive in the extreme, so I took the plunge.

Allow me to warn you Starlink customer service is virtually nonexistent, and you need to be tech savvy, or have a tech savvy source (my son), to help with the details.

But, bless Musk and his fleet of nearly 8,000 Starlink low-orbit satellites, a number supplemented by 29 in a late October rocket launch (celebrating my arrival as a customer?), I’ve been a user for about half a week now and I’m impressed.

Musk is the quintessential entrepreneur – identify a need and act to fill it.

Thank you, Elon, for being an intelligent and efficient free-marketeer.

And so, after my son and I ( mostly my son) spent time mounting the satellite receiving antenna with a clear view of the sky, and orienting it properly using a cell phone app, running the cable into the house to connect to the modem, and attending to other miscellaneous tasks, which included me buying a much-needed new desktop computer, I’m a Starlink fan.

Plus, using a short-term promotion, there was no upfront equipment cost and my monthly rate is $59 for the first year, moving up to $80 after that.

Allow me to reiterate, I’m more than happy with the service so far. If you are reading this, know that this post was made using Starlink.

With any luck, Starlink will keep performing until my death, which I hope occurs sometime past when the $59 introductory rate period ends.

We need another Art Linkletter, the late, great TV host who in the 1960s gave us the delightful segments of Kids Say The Darndest Things.

Were he alive today, Linkletter could use same format, but switch it over to the verbal efforts from the political left: Dems Say The Darndest Things.

With the children, they had the excuse of youthful innocence to explain their curious observations. I’m struggling to understand, or explain, where Democrats’ minds are when dispensing their bon mots of late.

Begin with Zohran Mamdani (The Commie), presumptive next mayor of New York City.

Zohran says a lot of inexplicable things, like promising free everything to city residents and proposing higher taxes on businesses throughout the state to pay the freight. Likely he expects a lot of federal money, too, to fund his free bus rides and grocery stores.

But Zohran sees the polls tightening a bit, so he’s playing the victim card and even that’s a reach for those thinking beyond kindergarten level.

Zohran tearfully recounted an “aunt” afraid to wear her hijab on the subway in the wake of the 9-11 terrorist attacks due to Islamophobia.

Where do we start with this pile of goat crap?

First, might the greater victims be the thousands of Americans who died on that day, not Zohran’s “aunt “ being uncomfortable riding the subway in the aftermath.

It gets worse. The “aunt” actually is a cousin of Zohran’s father. She also is deceased and so not available to back up any of this talk.

No matter, argued Zohran, the real point is Islamaphobia and he’s a victim, too.

There must be something about being a rich kid that produces difficulty with the facts.

Gavin Newsom, he of the oiled hair and tall tales, loves to spread whoppers. He slept with his best friend’s wife and incorrectly claimed to have gone to alcohol rehab to cure himself.

He closed California during COVID, but allowed himself to go out to supposedly shut-down fancy restaurants.

Gavin denies statistics that show California to be a crime-infested mess and losing population, even despite throwing out the welcome mat for illegals.

Between oil changes on his hair, Gavin showed up on a podcast claiming childhood poverty, subsisting on Wonder Bread and mac and cheese. But Gavin also had a wine shop while in his early 20s and ran with a crowd including heirs to the massive Getty oil fortune.

Then there is Dem up and comer Jasmine Crock Of It, who paints herself as a child of the ghetto, and adapts an appropriate speaking style, despite having attended a $35,000-a-year private school.

The Crock Of It now is being asked to explain reports that she had quite the investment portfolio she failed to report to Congress, including investments in big pharma, fossil fuel, marijuana and car firms.

It reminds of Bernie Sanders, the supposed anti-oligarch who just happens to have three expensive houses. That’s my kind of socialist.

Then there’s would-be Virginia attorney general Jay Jones and his texts about shooting a political opponent.

Senator Dick Durbin raced to the microphone in the halls of Congress this week to liken ICE arrest and deporatation of illegals to the internment of Japanese here during World War II, neatly forgetting that the Japanese internment was ordered by Democrat Franklin Roosevelt and that the Japanese were citizens here legally.

Other than that, nice try, Dick.

And, finally, we have Eric Swalwell, investigated for liaisons with an alleged Chinese spy, named U Bang Mi, or something like that.

These days, Swalwell has come up with a litmus test to run for president as a Democrat. That would be vowing to tear down the White House ballroom Donald Trump is currently constructing, to the consternation of leftists who fail to realize past presidents have done some remodeling of their own.

Yes, kids — and immature Democrats — do say the darndest things.

The World Series has turned into yet another U.S.-Canada passion play. Spare me.

Canadians, suffering their eternal inferiority complex when it comes to the United States, are frothing at the mouth and hyperventilating over Toronto being in the World Series, with a chance to restore national honor and humble the Americans by winning against Los Angeles.

Take that, Donald Trump!

Toronto won the opener Friday, in one-sided fashion, and might just win Game 2 tonight. Yippee.

I will confess that, in my youth, I used to get caught up in this sort of thing. I rooted mightily for the U.S. in the Olympics vs. the Soviets, for example.

Eventually, we defeated the Soviet Union on the world power stage, not because our hockey team won the Miracle On Ice game, but because Ronald Reagan upped the defense stakes and forced the Soviet Union into economic collapse.

That’s why we now have Russia and a lot of independent former Soviet countries.

If Toronto wins the World Series, that won’t change the reality that Canada is an afterthought in the world, despite the ravings of their Carney Barker prime minister.

Canada is a cultural slave to the United States, largely relying on our movies and music. And economically, there’s an old saying that if the U.S. sneezes, Canada catches pneumonia.

Trump’s trolling of Canada as our potential 51^st state isn’t that far off from economic reality. Did you know that if U.S. states California, Texas or New York were separate countries, each would have a higher gross domestic product (GDP) than economic lightweight Canada?

Florida almost matches Canada, too.

During the height of sporting tensions amidst hockey’s 4 Nations Face-off, overwrought Canadians were online suggesting Canada just might take military action vs. us. Good luck with that. I researched at the time and just double-checked again – Canada has 89 fighter jets – total – and each U.S. Nimitz-class aircraft carrier has 90!

Good luck to what some online types call the Snow Mexicans.

Recently, Canada irked Trump by running an ad on their TV mis-representing Reagan on the subject of tariffs.

Trump greeted that by canceling trade talks with Canada. For all the pontificating about how this will hurt the U.S., stay tuned to see who blinks in the end.

Toronto is Canada’s New York City, a land of leftists intent on supporting illegals and denying history and traditions.

But how can I root for Los Angeles? The City of Angels has morphed into the City of Illegals. My late father used to tell me as a child that our country was tilted to the west and all the assorted loose nuts rolled to California.

How correct he was.

The World Series will drone on, with Toronto being painted as a team of avenging underdogs, despite the fact that the Blue Jays ranked No. 5 in payrolls at the start of the season, according to USA Today, at $239.6 million.

Los Angeles was No. 2 at $321.2 million.

This series is being contested between two of MLB’s elite spenders and one just happens to be from Canada.

Beyond that, it’s merely baseball and not of a particularly interesting variety.

The result that would please me most would be if both possibly could lose.

Democrats, assorted leftists and their propagandists in LameStream media have the vapors over Donald Trump adding a grand ballroom to the White House.

From the beached whales on The View, to the motley crew of Democrats in Congress, to various news outlets preaching to a choir of declining viewership, they weep and gnash their teeth in histrionic outrage.

It reminds me of the way my two granddaughters prefer to greet “crises” such as misplacing a toy or a stuffed animal, with their exaggerated emotional displays. Forgive them, those girls are 8 and 6 years of age, respectively. They know no better.

Contrast this to the supposed adults who have latched onto the Trump White House renovation like drowning people desperately grabbing a life preserver. They so desperately need a distraction from their ongoing idiocy. Faux outrage over history repeating provides an opportunity to take the spotlight off their failings.

More than one Republican has noted it is curious how the party that is so in favor of destroying history, from pulling down statues to attempting to rewrite the nation’s past by tampering with textbooks on the subject, can’t cope with a White House renovation.

Perhaps it is the cruel reality that it is not being funded on the taxpayers’ credit card, but instead from private donors, including Trump, that so bothers these habitual freeloaders.

Beyond that, the White House is not the same building as originally built. Leftists, please note, the place was burned by the British during the War of 1812.

A bit of internet research produced posts on whitehousehistory.org referring to a marker in the floor of the White House Entrance Hall, commemorating past such renovations, most recently the complete gutting and rebuilding of the place in 1952, under Harry S. Truman.

Compared to Truman’s work, Trump’s demolition of the East Wing in preparation of building a ballroom is small potatoes. By the way, the East Wing has been part of the building only since 1942, not 1792.

Trump supporters point out that, along with those other building projects, past White House residents have changed things, including Nixon’s bowling alley, Obama’s basketball court and various swimming pools that have come and gone under assorted presidents.

But, should these ballroom critics move on from this topic, they might have to admit to very real current problems they have created.

The government shutdown, brought to you by establishment Democrats cowering in the face of their party’s left-wing lunatics, would be a nice place to start. Since when is guaranteeing free healthcare to illegals a priority?

Similarly, the ongoing violence in the streets, said to be funded by the typical left-wing billionaires, is a problem that needs to be addressed. By the way, why does Bernie Sanders love “oligarchs” when they are funding leftist causes?

A socialist/communist about to be coronated as New York City’s mayor is another topic the left wants to avoid addressing.

And so it goes.

Trump’s White House ballroom plans are but an issue for the left to glom onto, hoping to distract from their mounting failures on other, more substantive matters.

It allows these hypocrites to run around screaming the catchphrase from the old Under Armour commercials, “We Must Protect This House.”

The irony is that, due to leftist policies, citizens are finding they too often must protect their houses, businesses, children and vehicles – literally — from the criminals and illegals the Democrats support so vigorously.

“Big Game James” Franklin, the recently fired Penn State football coach, re-emerged on ESPN GameDay Saturday and gave his best Kamala Harris impression.

It’s like they were separated at birth. Throw a Maxine Waters wig on Franklin’s bald dome and he could go trick-or-treating this Halloween as Kamala. He does now have the free time.

The parallels are many between Big Game James and Kamala.

Both are walking, talking, failing examples of the Peter Principle, the management theory birthed in the late 1960s that people tend to rise to their level of incompetence, being promoted based on past success (or other factors), but eventually getting to the point where it is painfully obvious that they can’t do the job at the higher level.

Think of Kamala working her way up the political chain as the DEI candidate, even being added to the Joe Biden ticket to counteract that he was just another old, white guy, and one with an advancing case of dementia to boot.

Joe tried to give Kamala a larger role than that of most previous VPs, such as policing the border, and she dropped the ball – repeatedly.

Some suggest that Joe took his time dropping out of the 2024 presidential race, then coronated Kamala immediately, just to stick it up the butts of Democrat hierarchy that had come for him with their metaphorical knives.

Even mentally impaired Joe knew Kamala would lose. He got one thing right.

Kamala was gifted with a campaign war chest reported at $1.5 billion and blew it all in a losing effort. It sounds a lot like Penn State going all-in financially on this year, from Franklin’s huge salary, to $3.5 million in name, image and likeness (NIL) money for now injured quarterback Drew Allar, to the $3.1 million salary for defensive coordinator Jim Knowles.

Big Game James boasted, as is his wont, that this was his best total team. Beating three inferior opponents early didn’t exactly prove anything. Then Penn State, with so many things going for it, managed to blow a home game against Oregon, and the collapse had begun.

Big Game James took his team west and inexplicably lost a game with UCLA, a previously winless team that was about a 25-point underdog. Penn State backed that up with a homecoming loss to Northwestern, another 20-plus point underdog.

Big Game James had made history with the back-to-back mammoth losses and soon was shown the door.

Where Kamala gave us word salad responses to questions, Big Game James gave us word salad gameplans.

Fast-forward to Saturday and Big Game James was flashing his best Kamala look on that ESPN pregame show.

Big Game James painted himself as the victim in all this, showing the denial and delusion we’ve come to expect from him.

He said he had a “great run” at Penn State. We’d counter that it was good, not great.

Big Game James can’t wait to coach again and indicated he still would win a national championship, just at some outpost besides Penn State.

If Big Game James is so confident on that point, let him donate his future coaching salaries to charity, as President Donald Trump has done with his presidential paychecks. Big Game James does have that $50 million or so coming from Penn State to pay the grocery bills.

We might now expect Big Game James to continue with his Kamala impression.

Perhaps he will write a book, blaming everyone else for his failures.

Then he can go on a book tour, dropping bon mots such as “people” tell him he was the most qualified coach ever.

Big Games James could minimize his 5-21 record at Penn State vs. Top 10 competition, just as Kamala seems to have forgotten she went 0-7 in swing states vs. Trump.

Big Game James came from Vanderbilt and would fit in well coaching at a similar school, where winning records and some appearances in minor bowls would satisfy the fan base.

Big Game James did that at Vanderbilt. Most ignored that in 2013, Big Game James’ final season at Vanderbilt, four players were arrested on rape charges and Franklin had conflicting stories about whether or not he had viewed videotape of the alleged crime.

I would speculate that if Big Game James gets a job coaching at a Vanderbilt-like school, he will have modest success. If he somehow is hired at a big-time program, he will continue to lose the big ones.

It will be a fitting repeating loop for a guy who was born on Groundhog Day.

Ah, ’tis political season. I know this, in part, because of the campaign yard signs that have sprung up like weeds on private and public land.

Garish, distracting and short on useful information, I ponder how effective they really are.

I particularly wonder when I see such signs posted outside the geographic boundaries of the offices for which candidates are running. I’ve seen signs for City of Johnstown candidates posted in Southmont, Upper Yoder, Richland, etc.

Similarly, I discovered at least one sign for a Southmont candidate that was posted prominently in a bucloic part of Upper Yoder.

Can I actually vote in Johnstown elections, despite living in Southmont? I know, I know, illegals from around the world have voted in United States elections of recent vintage, so anything goes in the lawless world of elections.

Still, if I’m a resident of Municipality A, I don’t want people from Municipality B, C, or D, deciding my leadership and, by extension, my fate.

This is a rather low-key election, long on local and a few state elections, and lacking for much in the way of national impact, unless you factor in a communist/socialist about to be elected mayor of New York City and a guy prone to urging shootings on social media who is running for high office in Virginia.

Here in the quaint borough of Southmont, we have borough council seats and the mayor job on the ballot.

Just minutes ago, a candidate for mayor, Mark Drummey, stopped by and we chatted at length.

He’s got my vote, for many reasons.

First, he had the initiative to go out and meet the electorate, not just depend on a bunch of yard signs to emblazon his name into our memories, and prompt a kneejerk vote from people reaching the polls without having done any research on the candidates.

Second, the interaction lasted beyond the time it took to hand me a card.

Third, and most important, he’s a kindred spirit in thinking that our sleepy borough is going to hell in a handbasket due to a general hands-off approach to serial scofflaws that passes for justice in precincts such as Los Angeles, Chicago and New York City.

Southmont’s fear of offending bullies and hoping they just go away is sickening.

I’ve witnessed the decline of Southmont in four decades of residency and if Drummey can do something to change that, I say it’s about time.

The Drummey campaign card he handed me promises quality neighborhood services and fiscal responsibility.

Drummey lists himself as a 37-year resident of Southmont, with former posts in various civic operations.

More to the point, our conversation indicated he not only sees a problem, he’s willing to do what needs to be done to correct it, no matter if it brings verbal tantrums from the usual suspects.

Alas, electorates tend to vote on impulse, blind loyalty to a party, hurtful agendas, or outright ignorance.

Drummey fights the uphill battle by speaking of legitimate issues and promising to address them.

I’m hoping he gets the chance and I will be voting for him. I encourage others who might live within the borough to consider seriously putting someone in office inclined to do the right thing.

Let us pause a moment to mourn the passing of an American institution, the independent mechanic/garage owner.

Once, these guys were as ubiquitous as corner stores, those stores long ago having disappeared, victims of nationwide chains, not to mention online shopping. The small-business mechanic is moving toward similar extinction.

The reasons are numerous.

Begin with the reality that cars have gotten so complicated, you need sophisticated computerized machinery to diagnose their ills. Dealerships and nationwide chains are better able to absorb the cost of the equipment and amortize it over large customer lists, while generally charging a small fortune to do even the most mundane of tasks.

There also is the general trend in society to devalue the skills of those who get their hands dirty. Everyone should go to college, the self-appointed arbiters proclaim, even though that isn’t true. This prunes the field of would-be mechanics.

Add on that it’s hard work running a small shop and dealing with customers who might not know a driveshaft from a camshaft, but doubt you when you tell them what is wrong with their vehicle.

I don’t know this for sure, but I suspect government regulation also makes it harder for the small-guy mechanics.

And so we are at an unfortunate stage when competent, independent mechanics are scarce as hen’s teeth.

By way of background, I’ve shared in past posts the problems of getting someone to address the automatic transmission problems of my Corvette from Hell.

After jerking me around for a month, the transmission shop didn’t want to work on its because the transmission was not stock and they might not be able to get parts. Never mind that the transmission is based on the GM turbohydramatic transmission of the past, of which many millions were made, or that the aftermarket speed provider continues to sell them, and parts such as rebuild kits online. I know, I checked.

I’d about given up on the Corvette being anything more than an expensive paperweight when a fellow car guy said there was a mechanic located near him who did great work, on almost anything, and to give him a call.

In one of those ironies of life, that mechanic’s name is Chance. So, I took a Chance.

It took some time to get an opening for the Corvette and some time for a solution, so if you’re looking for quick turnarounds, look elsewhere.

However, if you want a guy who’s old school in the best ways, such as talented, conscientous, willing to take on a challenge, and inclined to charge a fair price, Chance at Thomasdale Machine, just past Thomas Mills along Old Somerset Pike, is your man.

I thought he was a 30-something, but he told me he’s actually 41. This is a good thing because it’s likely Chance and his business will outlast me. Unfortunately, the garage located less than a mile away from my home that I’ve relied on to service my small fleet of cars, currently numbering six, has owners who are looking to retire.

The mere thought gives me the shakes.

Getting back to happier thoughts, Chance seems to have cured the transmission ills, finding many gaffes by the people who assembled my car, a Frankenstein-type effort I call the Vette Rod in homage to its non-stock nature, the sort of thing that really annoys the Corvette purists.

Chance wants to do some tuning on my Corvette’s valves next year, when I get it out of winter storage, and he’s willing to take on the balky mechanism of my convertible Mustang, yet another challenge that many mechanics, including at dealerships, seem either unable or unwilling to attempt.

I guess I really shouldn’t be spreading the word about Chance, who already is busy due to a great word-of-mouth reputation.

But, praises need to be sung of people doing a good job, as rare as that has become.

Barely had I finished writing my latest ode to “Big Game James” Franklin, suggesting the right thing for him to do would be to quit, but he wouldn’t do that, when word came that Penn State had fired the guy.

James leaves with what is variously estimated to be a $50 million severance package, free to lose to quality opposition with great frequency somewhere else.

Franklin was a good coach, but also highly over-rated.

Don’t feel too sorry for him. That $50 million can buy a lot of therapy.

President Donald Trump did not win the Nobel Peace Prize and Penn State football coach “Big Game James” Franklin failed to win a football game for the third straight weekend. Only here might you read how those two disparate situations share something in common.

Friends and enemies alike came out before and after the latest peace prize announcement to note Trump deserved it. When you have leftist media outlets such as CNN, The Hill and Newsweek making Trump’s case, along with Vladimir Putin, you have an unusual grouping, sort of like the modern Democrat Party.

Alas, Trump did not win the prize. As an aside, I always found it ironic in the extreme that Nobel prizes, including for peace, are named after Alfred Nobel, the guy who invented dynamite. Nothing says peace like blowing up something.

Moving on, the Nobel Peace Prize winner, a Venezuelan woman whose name was not exactly on the lips of the world, sang the praises of Trump’s peace efforts!

In an email exchange a week or so before the announcement, I had assured a cousin that Trump would not win because he doesn’t tick the right boxes of this leftist-run organization. I did add that should I be wrong and Trump did win, he ought to refuse the reward and call it out for the shallow PR stunt it has become.

It was curious to hear some from the Nobel crowd suggest that what Trump did in terms of bringing peace throughout the world in less than a year in office, including brokering the Israel-Hamas hostage deal, came too late in the cycle and might be considered next year.

Explain, then, how Barack Hussein Obama was nominated for the award after less than TWO WEEKS in office and, of course, won it months later. It was fitting that the hope and change guy won a Nobel prize for something he promised, but did not deliver.

Allow me to put on my cynic’s hat here and suggest just maybe Obama’s win had something to do with him not being a white male.

I am not alone on that front. Megyn Kelly, prominent media figure and former Fox News host, fell under Trump’s attack for months after she grilled him about being an alleged mysoginist during a debate.

But Kelly has become a huge Trump supporter and called out the Nobel people as leftists promoting leftists and sullying their brand in the process of ignoring success from those on the political right.

That brings us to Franklin. For many reasons, including DEI, in the past there has been a rush to deify Franklin, as represented by contract extensions and massive salaries.

Franklin has been portrayed as a savior of a once-proud football program. Not exactly.

If a coach can’t win at Penn State in this era, well, he’s not much of a coach.

Bill O’Brien inherited Penn State after Joe Paterno’s departure, with the program at a low ebb both on the field and off it due to sexual abuse of children by former long-time assisant coach Jerry Sandusky and the school’s failure to report it.

O’Brien faced scholarship limits and a four-season bowl ban among his challenges.

Yet, Penn State won at a .625 clip during his two years.

Penn State’s win rate under Franklin is .717. That’s better, but is it really that much improved considering he’s operating with full scholarships and bowl eligibility to allow recruitment of better players?

O’Brien’s Big Ten winning percentage was .625, while Franklin’s is .660.

Franklin’s success rate against Top 10 competition is an abysmal .160!

During O’Brien’s stay, the Penn State program was populated by players either who stayed out of a strong sense of loyalty, or came for the twin reasons of facing a challenge and not having better offers.

By the way, Paterno’s win percentage was .749. He also coached two national championship teams and arguably deserved a third with his unbeaten 1994 team.

The Penn State football program is in freefall under Franklin. He painted this as his best team in terms of talent, depth and coaching staff. The Nittany Lions were ranked as high as No. 2 nationally.

Then they lost at home to a talented Oregon team (which since has lost to Indiana), went on the road to be shocked by previously winless UCLA, then returned to Beaver Stadium to drop a homecoming contest to Northwestern Saturday.

Penn State is making history of the negative variety. It’s been more than 30 years since a college team at Penn State’s level managed to lose back-to-back games in which it was favored by 20 points or more.

Fans are wearing bags on their heads and screaming for Franklin’s firing.

Somehow, they expected more from a team that pays the head man in excess of $8 million a year, imported a new defensive coordinator at $3 million a year for three years, has a quarterback (now injured) pulling down $3 million in name, image, likeness (NIL) money and has total NIL income for the roster at a reported $14 million for 2025.

But, the man they call – sarcastically – “Big Game James” has a contract that would require a buyout reported to be $56 million or so should Penn State brass do the right thing and show him the door.

The hit would be a lot less if Franklin left on his own and went elsewhere in pursuit of another deification process.

Franklin said in the aftermath of the Northwestern loss how commited he was to his players and to righting the sinking ship. But, the best thing Franklin could do now would be to leave that ship and give someone else a chance at the helm.

Don’t bet on that happening. It’s as much a fool’s errand as betting on Franklin to win big games, or Trump to win a Nobel prize.