V is for Victory.
V was for Hope.
V said “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.”
And They didn’t.
He had told them the first day they met. “We are going to win a National Championship.”
They failed for two years, and time was running out, most of them were seniors in college. Last chance.
They won when nobody had given them a chance.
As she walked away, she looked over her shoulder and gave an almost imperceptibly slight roll of the hip while mouthing the words “Naughty boy!”
He had been actually somewhat gracious in his reaction. That wasn’t his normal reaction, he being a direct and blunt “public intellectual:” he is not known for mincing his words or being upstaged by the Iron Lady.
Using his words as weapons, he had ripped into his opponents with relish: their station in life or credentials didn’t matter.
He loved to talk, preferably as part of an argument. Most public pundits no doubt would be intimidated by him: he was articulate and extremely knowledgable, and Oxford educated. His encyclopedic literary and historical knowledge was unmatched in public discourse.
Skeptical and Cynical, he was known for his admiration of George Orwell, Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson and for his excoriating critiques of Mother Teresa, Bill and Hillary Clinton, and Henry Kissinger.
Not a mainstream pundit.
My own opinion is enough for me, and I claim the right to have it defended against any consensus, any majority, anywhere, anyplace, anytime. And anyone who disagrees with this can pick a number, get in line and kiss my ass.