At a press conference between the next big win and the looming apocalypse:
We have a lot of players who are just willing to literally eat dirt for a win.
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Yeah, I know their opponent this week got swallowed in the redzone by a Shia-LaBeouf-Hulud or whatever them giant worms are called. And we’ve talked to our team on how to handle that. We’ll be leaving our pet mascot at home. That’s what I was told anyway. No one thinks a dog should have to go through all that.
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We’ll be ready. I love these kids. I would want to be in the trenches with these kids. Some of these kids have been in trenches. Over the summer, we were doing two-adays along the Somme. They’ll be fine riding down Fury Road to Death Valley. We wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Everyone everyone’s got a sad story. I don’t need to tell you that. We all got tough losses at this point in the schedule. I lost all my prop bets. Our team couldn’t even cover the spread.
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Fortunately, we don’t have to go very far. Our campus is right here between a roaring wildfire and rising floodwaters, so we’re just going to ride out whatever divine intervention comes our way.
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I mean, we don’t want to play there if we don’t have to, but we have no control over our seeding. There’s no map. ETA? Making the playoff is just like navigating a raft on a big river in the fog.
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You can’t pray a lie as Twain said. But that’s what you do. You pray a lie.
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We got boys on our team who just don’t flinch, would never flinch at a mere football game. Volcanic ash and giant sandworms? A New Age Civil War? Well, that’s all understandable.
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Just look look look look at our QB #1 over there. This time last year he was building a coffin for his mama. You think he’s gonna flinch in pressure situations? I just don’t think the fact we’re not bringing a goldfish along with us has any bearing on the outcome of our sport.
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I love these kids. I love their resilience. I love their dedication in a time of climate realignment.
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Yeah, talk about a real barn burner, his brother burned down a barn. That’s what that’s where he’s coming from. Once you understand that, all other actions and motions—emotions—, on or off the field, just make a lot more sense.
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That was not my call. I would not ask for any player to self-immolate in order to swing momentum and that’s all I’ll say on that.
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I don’t want to offend the conference powers that be. I have yet to speak with our offensive coordinator about the situation. I mean, obviously being on fire doesn’t help us move the ball. I’m just glad we have depth. Depth of resources is important to our program. You know we recruit from a military-grade Blackhawk helicopter. Just fly it to the local high school and fly it back. That’s all.
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No, not one, I never had any doubts. This team is built Faulkner strong. Grok told me to say that.
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No, not the tight end—AI.
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I knew we’d draw a big crowd this weekend cause our stadium doubles as an evacuation center and we had several radioactive cyclones blowing through the area as we got close to kickoff.
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As my favorite troubadour might say, the answers are blowing. You just got to be willing to reach up there and grab ahold of one. Just like a game of five hundred at the church potluck—it’s about who wants it more.
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Our team is not about photo ops. We’re not here to pose for Dorothea Lange, Arthur Rothstein, anybody. We’re here because we’re hungry. We’re here because we came to eat. We’re here because we have a purpose. And that’s a beautiful thing.
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Have you read The Hungry, Hungry Caterpillar? I don’t care what the projected reading level is—Eric Carle is a master motivator. And our whole program is about developing young men into older men, which is a tough ask.
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I’d like to address those rumors. It is not not not 100% true either myself, anyone on my staff, the Board of Trustees, the state governor, is infusing themselves with the blood of our athletes to reverse the aging process. It’s 110% true.
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Grand Theft Auto is a videogame. I would not joke about a video game, especially one that’s been so consistent for so many years. Many of our most productive players on the field are very serious about video games.
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And Knute Rockne once drove a mail truck, but I wouldn’t exactly call that going postal.
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And I’ve talked to our players about that. I’ve talked to the alumni organizations. Personally, I don’t think it’s a good look for our guys to receive NIL money from personal injury lawyers. Who are they going to sue? The school? The conference? Me? That’s robbing Peter to pay Paul.
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Is that true? The dealership is paying our linebackers more than they’re paying me. Sign of the times, I guess.
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Oh, he’s a heckuva player. Just everywhere. Wherever you look. The dark. A fight. The transfer portal. He’s just so damn hungry. That’s the only way I can explain it. Hungry and full of wrath. Sometimes you gotta be full of wrath to avoid sour grapes. And that’s the kind of kid you want a give a second or even third chance to.
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Tired eyes, hard times, can’t lose what’s already lost.
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No, I didn’t like how their fans took to throwing water bottles. That plastic is dangerous. Throw it in a trashcan. Toss it in the ocean. Just do not litter the playing field. Do not set a new precedent. That’s all I’m saying. God bless. Go Guinea Pigs!