
Ah, here we go. Classic match ups, slick trash-talking, no-look dishing, draining, national schedules across varied climates with little time to rest in between contests, and a slew of rabid partisans.
That’s right. Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen, it’s primary season again.
Romney! Whoa! Mitt Romney! Whoaaa!
He comes from New England.
He’s got more cash than sin.
Romney! Whoa! Mitt Romney! Whoooaa!
Two teams. Arch-rivals. Democrats vs. Republicans. A historic rivalry capable of matching up against any of the world’s great derbies. Think AC Milan-Inter Milan at the San Siro. A shared stadium, but it’s war. Each team, both sets of fans protecting the party line with a Daglishian zeal. No retreat. Hold the line. Never surrender.
But then a funny thing happens. Each side voluntarily agrees to turn their swords inward to batter and bruise their respective selves until submission or knockout. All, of course, for the greater good, or so they say.
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