Hey, what’s not to love about that? A big burly blocking end from a college program where they ran the wishbone was also a cellist with an affinity for chamber music.
The story writes itself, write?
No one wants to say that the TV network folks were duped because Jackson owned a cello. He had a bow and everything. He also had a collection of all the right records to back up the professed love of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner.
The problem was that damn cello. When Jackson sat down to play it with the cameras rolling, he could barely screech out the scales. Cats within earshot of a TV ran off into the woods. A few glass mirrors cracked.
It wasn’t good.