In another month, Knights Castle will be empty. The minor league club will pack it in for the winter and open up a new, shiny stadium on the outskirts of uptown Charlotte next year.
When the bulldozers come knocking down the castle gates, moist mustard will still be clinging to the concrete steps. Contrast the speed at which the stadium will be razed to that of the continuing delay for the PTL tower to come down.
The Cato Corporation plans to send an arsenal of wrecking balls soon after the umpire calls a player out for the final time. Before too long, a distribution center and possibly a business park will sprout up with faint voices of “Get yer popcorn here” still lingering in the air.
Meanwhile, Rick Joyner and Morningstar Ministries will be using their own arsenal to delay the tearing down of the decrepit tower on the old Heritage USA site. That bag of tricks includes the umpteen motions to request more time to raise funds. It includes the threatening of bogus lawsuits claiming the county disseminated false information that hurt their ability to fix the tower, and it includes claiming there are hundreds of people ready to make York County’s most infamous eyesore their retirement dream home.
In March 2012, Morningstar said it was ready to at least give the impression it was repairing the tower by working on the façade and replacing bricks. The real façade turned out to be that empty promise. Another one in a long line of empty promises. The whole charade has carried on for so long that one can only laugh at this point.
When a bustling baseball stadium can be flattened and transformed into something different in the blink of an eye, it is like Morningstar has turned into Rip Van Winkle.
I’m about ready to take on the “if you can beat them, join them” approach. I dreamed last week that the tower came down. It was a really vibrant dream, and a guy with a white robe and halo was delivering the message. I’m half-inclined to call it a prophecy. I mean, doesn’t Joyner have dreams and call them that?
I’ll even be more realistic and not make some half-brained comment that the power of prayer can regrow limbs on non-reptiles. I’ll even make you a better deal. I won’t gather a group of people together, relate my dreams and pass them off as being supernatural. I won’t ask you to hear my stories and then ply you for donations.
I just have one teeny-tiny little request: That the tower either come down or be renovated, preferably in my lifetime. Is that really so hard to accommodate?
Reach Scott at email@example.com for vivid details of his prophecy.