Virtual unreality

Look, I get it. We're all stir crazy here in this season of our national weirdness.

And so I cruise the sports websites and see that Denny Hamlin won the NASCAR race last weekend, only not really. He won a virtual NASCAR race, holding off Dale Earnhardt Jr., who isn't even racing-racing anymore. Also, down in Florida, the weirdness capital of America that isn't spelled "Texas," the state lege officially declared Florida State the NCAA Tournament champs, on account of they finished 26-5 in the regular season and were ranked No. 4 in the last Associated Press poll.

Well, phooey on that. If the Florida lege can do that, I can do this:

I can declare the Coastal Carolina Chanticleers national champs, on account of they have a great nickname and Chauncey, the most awesome mascot in college sports.

I can declare Seabiscuit the winner of the virtual Kentucky Derby, even though Seabiscuit is dead.

I can, virtually speaking, take Scott Dixon or Alexander Rossi or Josef Newgarden, put him in one of  those glorious old front-engine Novis from the 1950s, and declare him the winner of the 2020 Indianapolis 500. In this way one of history's great wrongs will be righted, and a Novi will finally win the 500.

I can pit the 1966 Packers against the 2019 Chiefs and make them replay Super Bowl I. I can pit J.D. McCoy against the 1970s Steel Curtain just so I can watch the little goober get crushed. Then I can bring in Matt Saracen to save the day.

(Gratuitous, and also obligatory, reference to "Friday Night Lights," the greatest TV show in history.)

I can make Jimmy Connors win Wimbledon again with that horse(bleep) Wilson T-2000 racquet. I can make Tiger Woods lose the Masters to Burt the insurance adjuster. I can stick Lance Armstrong on a Sting-Ray bike with a banana seat and make him do the entire Tour de France on it. Let's see you claim the yellow shirt on that, Steroid Boy.

I can go back in time and make it so the 1971 Pittsburgh Pirates win the World Series every single year. I can also go back in time and make it so I never, ever blow a deadline.

Well. OK. So I can't do that.