Jack Stallard

“I enjoy your Facebook posts, but I have to ask. Are your ‘Caller of the Day’ posts real?”

The question came from longtime friend Buck Ringgold, who was in town last week to cover the same high school football playoff game I was working.

Buck is one of the nicest guys on the planet, so it didn’t hurt my feelings when he questioned the validity of my Facebook posts. Besides, I’m the one who takes the phone calls, and I have trouble believing some of them.

I don’t record the calls, but I assured him they all happened and my replays of the calls were at least 90% accurate. He’d just have to forgive me for the 10% I got wrong, because it’s hard to take proper notes when you’re laughing hysterically or sobbing uncontrollably.

For example:

A caller wanted to know why he couldn’t find an NFL game on his television one Thursday evening early this football season. When I explained to him he would have to stream the game through Amazon Prime, he called me bad names because his wife already spends all of their money buying stuff from Amazon and now he would also have to pay them to watch football.

An elderly gentleman called and asked me to make sure his wife’s birthday was published in the newspaper, but he couldn’t remember the date and had to ask her. After she called us both bad names — loudly — he apologized, said he would call me back if she ever decided to talk to him again and asked me to pray for him.

I did.

A nice lady wanted to make a couple of suggestions. She saw me on television occasionally, and said I always looked too serious and should try to smile more. She also said I needed to work her grandson’s name into a few more of the football stories I wrote.

A caller was mad at me because I “voted” against his favorite high school team all 10 times one season. When I told him it was simply a prediction based on research — and reminded him I was right nine times that season — he called me bad names and wanted to fight. When I told him I fight better than I predict football games, he decided our conversation was over.

A caller accused my newspaper of “overplaying” COVID-19 when it was in the early stages, saying we were hyping it up like the Bluebonnet Plague. He really said that, and also told me if folks would wash their hands and quit breathing (I swear he said that, too) it would just go away.

When I asked him if he had told anyone at the White House about his cure for the pandemic, he called me bad names and said he hoped I got COVID and the Bluebonnet Plague.

And, finally, one of my favorites happened a few years ago around this time of year.

I typically answer the phone “Sports, this is Jack,” but I noticed the words “North Pole” on the caller ID, so I threw in a “How can I help you” just in case it was actually Santa calling. Can’t be too careful, I always say.

Turns out, it was a gentleman trying to get his number out to parents of unruly kids. For a few dollars, he would call them and the parents could show the kids the North Pole ID.

That, according to the caller, would convince the kids mom and dad knew Santa and the kids would quit being little heathens so their house didn’t get skipped on Christmas Eve.

I’m still a big kid at heart, and I don’t always behave myself, so I took one for the team and told the caller to get lost.

When he asked me to repeat my name for him, I said “It’s Buck. And don’t forget it, you creepy, Santa wannabe.”

Like I said. You can’t be too careful.