In their seminal, affecting work called "Basketball Jones featuring Tyrone Shoelaces," Cheech & Chong exhort top sports broadcasters of the 1970s to join them in singing the praises of the sport.

"Bill Russell: sing along with me. Chick Hearn: sing along with me. Chris Schenkel: don't say nothing."

That latter sentiment, while a cheap shot at the unspectacular-but-better-than-half-the announcers-on-ESPN Schenkel, is one I'm guessing that many people from Wall Street to Main Street expressed about President Bush as some of the country's financial institutions experienced a financial meltdown unseen since the Great Depression.

Mr. President: don't say nothing. Please.

But he couldn't resist. On Friday, Bush belatedly, begrudgingly, made his first in-depth public response to the financial calamity that some people are calling an economic 9/11.

While the president's words lacked the pithiness of FDR's during the Great Depression -- "We have nothing to fear but fear itself" -- they did seem to soothe jangled nerves on Wall Street: Stocks soared after Bush addressed what he called "a pivotal moment for America's economy. Our economy is facing unprecedented challenges, and we are taking unprecedented action."

And act he did, supporting a bailout in the hundreds of billions of dollars.

The day before, Bush had merely said, "The American people are concerned about the situation in our financial markets and our economy. And I share their concerns."

That concern, plus a fifth of Jack Daniels, might have calmed some nerves, but not the way strong, decisive action by the president did.

Only a week before he essentially declared war on the financial calamity, he'd defended the economy and maintained that it was fundamentally strong, despite evidence that the house of cards upon which much of it was built was teetering.

That was in line with Republican candidate John McCain: Only a day or two before Lehman Bros. went belly up and the government rescued AIG with $85 billion, McCain was still declaring that the economy was basically sound.

Many of us were probably wishing that Bush would simply run out the clock -- that's the last basketball metaphor, I promise -- and leave as little mess as possible for his successor to deal with.

Instead, on Friday, Bush stepped forward, called for bipartisan action -- "There'll be ample time to debate the origins of this problem," he said -- and displayed leadership that has been missing except when he went into saber-rattling mode as the self-described "wartime president."

His welfare plan -- can anyone sincerely dispute that's what it is? -- for the investment banks could require hundreds of billions of dollars, some economists say, but most would probably agree that doing nothing would cost the economy even more.

Back in the 1920s, President Calvin Coolidge, better known as Silent Cal, is credited with saying "the business of America is business."

If the nontalkative president hadn't been worn out by that relatively extended outburst, he could've added, "and the business of the government is to make sure that business does not endanger the livelihoods of millions of Americans with greed and reckless investments that threaten pensions and provide insanely high compensations for ineptitude."

Bush deserves some credit for recognizing, albeit late in the game, that bold action is needed.