One week after the trained seals of Hollywood buried their imaginations in the same shallow grave at a nearby cemetery, the most inarticulate figures in public life, the trained seals of the National Football League, aimed their seldom taxed minds at President Trump.

In the tradition of professional football, uh, players, some trained seals asked who was president. Spelling his name confused the rest.

The coach of the Pittsburgh Steelers, a former player, typified the muddiness of the trained seals who agreeably imitated their teammates rather than inviting a new thought into their minds, where Rooms for Rent signs abound.

Indicating he was not necessarily sympathetic with the ding-dong school protest, the coach slipped into coach talk.

Unity was his objective, he said.

Spurning Churchillian-style patriotic language, ignoring the stupidity of the schoolboy behavior, he declared his goal was for all of his charges to be rowing in a common direction.

Since ethics and morality are oxymoronic concepts for many coaches, unity – right or wrong matters not —  is every day’s single destination.

Judging by the most reliable accumulated evidence, for future reference a maximum of one Pittsburgh player would step aside if he gazed upward and espied a fast-falling vault.

Bravely pushing back against the mud-minded mob of dazed trained seals, military veteran Alejandro Villanueva of Pittsburgh, hand over heart, stood alone during the playing of our National Anthem before Sunday’s game.

Back in the locker room, one puzzled protesting seal had just consumed his daily vial of dupe soup. Turning to a teammate, he innocently wondered,“What’s a hart?”