Category: Politics, Rants a.k.a. Commentary, Wild World of Sports || By

I like John McCain. I don't agree with many of his political positions --- OK, we're both in favor of the American flag, Mom, apple pie and Chevrolet --- but I generally respect and admire the man. I've read Faith of My Fathers and I've followed his career for years.

That's why, for the past decade or so, I've found McCain's public life kind of sad. In a desperate attempt to convince the president's hardcore partisans that he's suddenly become a Bible-thumping, big-government neo-conservative, McCain is saying a lot of things that he clearly doesn't believe, and he's cozying up to a lot of people he never had much use for before.

Yes, I know all politicians do this. Barack Obama isn't playing nice with Hillary Clinton because he's suddenly forgotten all of the nastiness of the Democratic primaries, and he didn't vote for the president's FISA legislation because he suddenly believed the administration should be allowed to tap phones without a warrant.

But on the other hand, much of McCain's appeal has been built on his willingness not to behave like a politician --- to say what's on his mind, even when it didn't endear him to the left or the right.

Alas, now he seems willing to say anything to get elected. To quote Jon Stewart, the Straight Talk Express has been rerouted through B.S. Town.

My old cow-orker Jonathan Potts has the skinny on the latest from the Arizona "maverick":

John McCain told Jon Delano that the Pittsburgh Steelers helped him endure torture at the hands of his North Vietnamese captors:

"When I was first interrogated and really had to give some information because of the physical pressures that were on me, I named the starting lineup -- defensive line -- of the Pittsburgh Steelers as my squadron-mates!"

There's just one problem with that story:

...the Steelers aren't the team whose defensive line McCain named for his Vietnamese tormentors. The Green Bay Packers are. At least according to every previous time McCain has told this story. And the McCain campaign just told ABC News that the senator made a mistake -- it was, indeed, the Packers.

Notes Jonathan, "Yes, a mistake he just happened to make while he was in Pittsburgh, a town with a singular devotion to its football team and the second largest city in a critical swing state."

It's pretty bad on its surface. Below the surface, it's one of the dumber things McCain could have said.

As any true Steelers fan knows, they were one of the worst teams in football before Chuck Noll became the head coach in 1969.

McCain was captured by the North Vietnamese in 1967, after his plane was shot down over Hanoi. The previous season, the Steelers had gone 5-and-8.

While McCain was enduring unspeakable torture in a POW camp in 1967, 1968, 1969, 1970 and 1971, the Steelers were going 18 and 50. (They won two games in 1968 and one in 1969.)

The team didn't post a winning record until 1972, when they won the AFC Central Division by defeating the hated Oakland Raiders. (You may have heard about that game.)

McCain wasn't repatriated until 1973.

My point is that there's no way anyone outside of a die-hard Pittsburgh Steelers fan (and there weren't very many in the 1960s) would have committed the 1967 Steelers roster to memory.

And there's no way that McCain (who grew up in northern Virginia) was a die-hard Steelers fan.

On the other hand, the legendary Green Bay Packers of the 1960s would have been familiar to anyone who followed pro football back then.

Why didn't he just tell the story straight --- about the Packers? Why did he feel the need to fudge the truth?

I'm not trying to read anything more into this story than necessary. I don't think it shows some pattern of dishonesty, or some deep character flaw. McCain doesn't have to prove his character to anyone.

But I do think it's sad.

And although I don't think I would vote for him for president, I'd like to see the Straight Talk Express upright and on the rails again.

I sure hope it happens before McCain starts to brag about listening to Bob Prince call the 1960 World Series on the radio, or seeing them raise that B-25 bomber from the Mon.