Covid perils are still holding forth. But just not so bad now as perhaps a week or two ago. And will it reload and again assert itself as the big news story of our time and be the killer it has been. I hope not. This Covid has terrorized the world long enough. Well, long enough for me. One doctor amazed at the denial among the anti-vaxxers reports that many of these deniers who have already been smacked down by this dreaded virus insist to the death (theirs) that they don’t have Covid. Such is the strength of the organizers of resistance to this happening. It’s very sad. But the denial is as real as the virus itself.

On a happier note, this last Friday I watched incredulously as what seemed like “billions” of little 3 ^rd grade girls at the Jenks-Enid football game performed cheerleading demonstrations. I hadn’t expected this. You see, some time back I had told son Steven that we would be in Tulsa this weekend. He reminded me of the cheerleading episode so Pat and I enthusiastically agreed that we would like to be there. I like to watch my little granddaughters do things. But my expectations and reality as usual varied wildly.

My visions of this episode in my life were thus. Third grade class. Usually, about half of a ^rd grade class is made up 3 of girls. Boys, as I figure things, make up the other half. In addition, not all little girls can qualify to be cheerleaders for a school like Jenks. And besides, ^rd grade how big can a 3 be anyway? Second ^th graders graders and 4 and boys are excluded. So, you can see how I thought we would be led out somewhere, to a dirt playground like I played ^rd on when I was in the 3 grade down at Centrahoma where about 25 cute little girls in cheerleaders’ uniforms would show just how good they were at cheerleading. That would be that. Then we would go. But I was wrong.

The event was held before the Jenks/Enid football game on the Jenks football field. And this: There were over 200 of the little elegantly and identically dressed, perfectly performing little ^rd grade Jenks girls. Yes, 3 we (Steve) had to buy $7.00 tickets for the game. We had to get in you know. Once inside, my aged eyes searched frantically for the one little clone that was my granddaughter, Charlotte. And I found her. Very simple. She was wearing her glasses. She was the most perfect and the prettiest one out there too. Plus, she was leading all the cheers from the second row and believe it or not, some of them were out of step with her. I was very proud.

Meanwhile, way down Elm Street several blocks south, my Mustangs were toiling against the Mounds football team. I hadn’t realized that Mounds was also a Tulsa suburb. But it is. Mounds won out over my Allen team — a bunch of good Allen kids that are having a good season. Sorry I didn’t get to make the jump down there to cheer them on last Friday.

After all that, Pat and I were too tired to drive on Saturday to Norman to watch the Big-12 conference opener— in which the Sooners were favored by two touchdowns. But woe was me when I saw the Mountaineers come on the field unaware of their inferiority at football and acting like they owned the place. Sooners, on their home turf, were astonished when the invaders fiddled their way through the first quarter and went on top 7 to 0.

My Sooners finally tiptoed quietly to the end of the 4 ^th period and beat the West Virginia Mountaineers, 16-13. But many experts, such as me, were disappointed in the Sooner’s offensive play, play calling and the “Rough Rider Uniforms” that some halfwit had chosen for the game. I felt, had I been there, I could have avoided the whole snafu by simply going down on the field and telling Lincoln Riley “I got it from here” and have him go sit in the bleachers. But that’s just me.

I hope all of you have a good week. I know I will. Be sure and go to church Sunday.

Wayne Bullard, DPh cwaynebullard@gmail.com