Any Bodies Better Than Somebodies

“Na - na, na - na, na , na, our scabs are better than your scabs . . . “

--Rallying Cry

National Football League fans

So they’ve done it again. The National Football League players have gone out on strike, abandoning their salaries and risking the ignominy of having to take their silver spoons to soup kitchens.

But it’s different this time.

Ownership is not going to force the fans to endure another fall lamenting the absence of professional football. No, the games will go on.

Obviously, the NFL must find some bodies to fill the uniforms when the season resumes Oct. 4. Consequently, scouts are scouring mine shafts, waterfront saloons, prisons, Sumo wrestling tournaments and the Kansas City Royals’ outfield in search of players.

As might be expected, there has been considerable gnashing of teeth over the quality of football about to be foisted upon us.

Shed no tears, San Diego.

In accomplishing parody, which the NFL has surely done, it has likely achieved parity as well. And this development might work wonders for the home town heroes, even though no one knows who they are.

You see, the striking Chargers--the ones fans have come to know and boo--were lucky they ended their two-game mini-season with a 1-1 record. It probably should read 1/2-1 1/2, given their disappearance in the second half Sunday against St. Louis.

Those Chargers, bless their picket line, seemed likely to improve on last year’s 4-12 record, but hardly by enough to be considered even remote contenders for the playoffs.

Hence, these new Chargers, while obviously inferior to the old, might just stack up as more competitive against the new Raiders and the new Seahawks and the new Broncos and the new Chiefs.

You know, na - na, na - na, na , na . . .

Of course, it’s important that the Charger organization take advantage of this opportunity to pursue excellence in mediocrity. This cannot be a stopgap collection of misfits, but rather a choice gathering of the creme de la castoffs.

Now, about some suggestions . . .

Let’s start with quarterback. I would recommend that the Chargers try to sign the fellow who was throwing all those lightning bolts across the sky early Tuesday morning. No offense could ever match the voltage that fellow was tossing around. In comparison, Air Coryell was about as powerful as a flashlight battery.

OK, that’s a great start.

How about Stars & Stripes? Not the boat, silly. The crew. It almost looked like a football team. There were big, burly guys to play the line, quick, nimble guys to play the backfield and Big Bad Dennis Conner to snarl at Kiwi kickers . . . and it would not surprise me to find a Kiwi kicker or two when these new teams tee it up.

The Chargers also should look down the hall. Perhaps some of the Padres might be interested in a hobby. After all, that’s all pro football really is. Right, Bo?

Garry Templeton, for example, was a standout high school football player. In fact, when Templeton was at Santa Ana Valley High School, I didn’t know he even played baseball. I remember thinking what a mistake he had made signing a baseball contract. Now he has a chance to get back where he belonged in the first place . . . in football.

Aha! Steve Garvey, the one-time Michigan State defensive back, is semi-unemployed. He is being paid by the Padres, but they do not intend to renew his contract--at least not for the kind of bucks it takes to keep him in hair spray. He has insisted he would like to continue playing, but never specified that the sport has to be baseball. His concern, of course, would be alienating the labor vote. Future senators must be careful.

Geez, speaking of political aspirations, how about bringing back Jack Kemp to play some quarterback? How many presidential candidates can get exposure playing football against the villainous Raiders in prime time on a Sunday night?

Uh-oh, Kemp would have the same problem Garvey would have with the labor vote.

Better stay away from politicians and potential politicians.

I presume Coach Al Saunders would be interested in hydroplane racer Chip Hanauer. One day last week, when the Gold Cup was on display at the stadium, Saunders marveled at its size.

“Show me the guy who can carry that thing,” Saunders said, “and I’ll sign him up.”

Hanauer, as it turned out, carried it off for the sixth straight time Sunday afternoon on Mission Bay. Give the man a contract.

Some anonymous people might also be considered. From what I’ve heard about the Lakeside Hotel Bar, the Chargers might be able to use a couple of the bouncers in the defensive line. And owner Alex Spanos probably has a few bruisers hauling girders for his construction company. We’re not talking about being overly picky here.

Indeed, the top 1,200 to 1,300 professional football players will be on picket lines today. The Chargers have the chore of putting together the best of the rest, albeit no one who is not numbered among those 1,200 to 1,300 athletes really is a professional football player.

The point is these new guys, these butchers, bakers, bartenders and beachcombers, have a chance to turn this most inglorious of occasions into a most glorious season for San Diego football.

These guys have a chance to do something the Chargers have never done. They have a chance to go to the Super Bowl, and they have a chance to do it right here in San Diego. Just think of how memorable it would be if San Diego’s scabs are better than everyone else’s.

However, I would have to make one request. It would have to do with the name of the game.

Could we call it super bowl xxii?