There’s nothing Americans love quite as much as a comeback story.
Trans fats and political vitriol are close seconds, but make no mistake, resurrections are America’s newest pastime.
The thing about them, though, is they don’t happen often, and they’re damn hard work - no matter how easy Jason Voorhees or Spock or Ben Affleck’s career make them look. Most things that fall from grace lack what’s necessary to get back up. They either wither and die, or go on existing in some reduced state, mired in the quagmire, wistful for the good ole days.
Like horse racing.