Coach Ryan Brings In A Surprise
12.31.09
Mark Sanchez: Who we got this week, Thomas? The Bengals?
Thomas Jones: Yup. Sunday Night.
Sanchez: Damn. They’re gonna be tough. You think they’ll cut us a break, the way the Colts did?
Jones: I dunno, man.
Sanchez: I hope they don’t. I mean, I’d love to make the playoffs. But I hate the idea that we made it when our last two opponents didn’t give it everything they had.
Jones: Yup.
Sanchez: You think Coach Ryan is gonna be all fired up this week?
Jones: The hell you think, man? I had a buddy in Baltimore tell me that, when the playoffs come around, that dude loses his goddamn mind.
Sanchez: Damn. I wonder what that’ll be like.
(door flies open)

Ryan: HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN’, BOYS?
Sanchez: Good, coach.
Ryan: Oh, men, OH, MEN. Men, I have had one hell of a goddamn morning. I scratched my ass, then I scratched my eye. I never should have done it in that order!
Sanchez: No, sir.
Ryan: But I still feel good! I FEEL FUCKING GREAT! DO YOU FEEL FUCKING GREAT?! I FEEL FUCKING GREAT. Men, it’s money time. Playoff spot on the line. Prime time TV. Can you fucking FEEL it comin’ on? Can you feel your dick getting hard, men? Can you? Ricardo Humidor, can you feel that dick swelling up?
(rubs crotch)
Sanchez: Well, I…

Ryan: Oh! Oh! Ol’ Ricardo here has his hit stick up and ready to fucking KILL! THAT’S GREAT HUSTLE!
(slaps Sanchez on the ass, hard)
Sanchez: Ouch!
Ryan: Okay, now do me! Smack my ass and tell me that’s great hustle!
Sanchez: Coach, I really can’t…
Ryan: SMACK THAT ASS! MEN WHO FUCK LIKE PROS SMACK THE ASS!
Sanchez: That’s great hustle, coach.
(smacks Ryan’s ass)
Ryan: WOOOOOOOO! HELL FUCKING YES, THAT IS GREAT HUSTLE! Okay, men. First order of business: nicknames. Sanchez, your new name is Paunch! Because you remind me of that motorcycle cop that saved kids from tigers back in the day! GOD DAMN, I LOVED THAT SHOW. THAT WAS BACK WHEN MEN ON TV HAD REAL COCKS. Jones, your new nickname is JONESY. That’s Jones with a Y!
(opens fresh bag of pork rinds)
Jones: Yes, sir.
Ryan: Now, men. This is a big game. This one’s for all the honey. I want your dicks extra hard out there, men. I want you ready to FUCK FIRE. Can I get a FUCK YEAH?
Everyone: FUCK YEAH.
Ryan: That’s why I brought in someone special to speak to you today. To highlight to you just how important this game is. Come on in, sir.
(door flies open)
Drunken Joe Namath: Heyyyyyyyyyyy…
Ryan: I want all of you here to listen to Mr. Namath. Especially YOU, Paunch. This guy’s been fucking on bear rugs for DECADES.
Drunken Joe Namath: Well, I thank you for that introduction, Coach Coslet. Yoy gave me goosebumps all over again, Coach! I feel like it’s 1945 again, and I’m squaring off against Otto Graham and Racine Bucks all over again!
Sanchez: Racine Bucks?
Ryan: SHUT UP! NEVER INTERRUPT A DRUNK MAN IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING TO REMINISCE!
Drunken Joe Namath: You men have a very special opportunity today. Playing in the National Football Leeeeeeeague… there’s nothing like it! You’re one of a select few…
Ryan: SELECT FUCKING FEW!
Drunken Joe Namath: And no one can take that from you…
Ryan: FUCKING NO ONE!
Drunken Joe Namath: And you get a chance to play for New York, the greatest ciiiity in the world…
Ryan: COCK OF THE FUCKING WALK!
Drunken Joe Namath: So what I want you to remember is… just have fun out there. You know? Go out and HAVE FUN. That’s what it’s all about.
Ryan: And the best way to have fun is to FUCKING KILL!
Drunken Joe Namath: And remember, if you win, you’ll remember it for the rest of your lives. I tell ya, you win here, it’s like winning no place else.
Ryan: Tell them what they get to do if they win, Joe.
Drunken Joe Namath: Well ha, it’s obviously going to beee a good time…
Ryan: HE MEANS YOU’RE GONNA GET TO FUCK!
Drunken Joe Namath: This city will be your oyster…
Ryan: THAT MEANS YOU CAN SMACK A COP AND GET AWAY WITH IT!
Drunken Joe Namath: Most of all, you’ll have the memories…
Ryan: OF ALL THE BONES YOU SHATTERED AND PUSSIES YOU RUINED! YOU WILL WIN, AND THEN WE’LL ALL GET PARADES AND TITS!
Drunken Joe Namath: I just want you guys to know I support you. You have Joe Namath’s support ALL THE WAAAAY. Actually, can we hug? I’D LIKE TO HUG YOU ALL.
Jones: Coach, ol’ Joe smells funny.
Ryan: Just shut up and hug the man. Let’s all gather around Mr. Namath.
(everyone gathers)
Ryan: You men, you listen to me now. A lot of people are gonna say you aren’t good enough. They’re gonna say the Colts laid down for you. They’re gonna say the Bengals will do the same. Well, last I checked, YOU STILL HAVE TO FUCKING TAKE IT. So what if they gave you an opening? You men are Jets. Someone gives you an opening, YOU FUCK IT. YOU GOT ME?!
Everyone: Yes.
Ryan: You see this man, right here? Broadway Joe didn’t become Broadway Joe because someone let him backslide into it.
Drunken Joe Namath: Actually, if you look at the stats, I really wasn’t that good.
Ryan: SHUT UP! Men, don’t sell yourselves short. Ever. You men are fucking WINNERS. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. You are going to go out there and WIN on Sunday night. And do you know fucking why? Because you know damn well what it means to win. It has nothing to do with loving your teammates, or the inherent reward of a job well done. It has to do with the fucking glory. It’s about you getting to be fucking KINGS. It’s about pounding the shit out of the other team, then walking out of that stadium with all the beer and pussy in the world waiting for you. THAT’S WHAT IT MEANS TO WIN. Losers have to go home and jerk off. WINNERS GET THE PUSSYPOT. DO YOU WANT THAT FUCKING PUSSYPOT?
Everyone: Yes!
Ryan: DO YOU WANT TO RULE THIS FUCKING TOWN?!
Everyone: Yes!
Ryan: ARE YOU WILLING TO FUCKING KILLLLLLLL TO DO IT?! HUH? ARE YOU?! I’M READY TO FUCKING KILL! WILL YOU KILL WITH ME?!
Everyone: Yes!
Ryan: THAT’S FUCKING GREAT HUSTLE!
(smacks Drunken Joe on the ass)
Drunken Joe Namath: Oh, that takes me back. I remember when Cathy Lee Crosby did that to me! I WANT ANOTHER HUG! WHERE’S THAT MICHELE TAFOYA! SHE HAD MOXIE!
Ryan: No chance, old timer! Coach Ryan has to go punch a wall, and then go to the ER to treat the hand!
Sanchez: I love my job.



Hihi…Your position certainly got me idea man….. per intelligent piece ,I must recommend.
I had Pussypot on my Christmas list, but my wife got me a sweater.
Is Broadway Joe holding a shot?
the guy next to joe is gay, right?
I’ve fucked on a bear rug. It’s the shit.
“COCK OF THE FUCKING WALK!”
Epic win.
EastEndClam Says:
December 31st, 2009 at 2:11 pm
I want parades and tits!
how about a PARADE OF TITS???
/hint: sexy friday?
+ 1. The most anticipated phrase of recent memory… ” door flies open “.
Well done sirs, well done. Now to go find an out-of-my-league woman and ” FUCK FIRE “!
I’ll be pussytubing in the front row with this motherfucker Sunday night!
Are those McDonalds scratch-off cards in Rexs’ hand? “Ohhh, I just missed supersizing that double #4 meal”.
God, I hope the Jets win, just to keep this stuff coming.
/knows it’s wrong
//doesn’t give a shit
Sanchez: “I love my job.”
I love your job too, Mark. I love your job too.
As a Bengals fan, i have to say, i love coach Ryan!
Best words of advice… Never scratch in that order.
‘…all the beer and pussy in the world waiting for you.’
Drew, please get out of my dreams. Great post, great komments! (Up until mine.)
Also, pale people (looks in mirror), you do not look good in most shades of orange/gold/yellow. I know that dude at the gym has a rockin’ orange Golden Bear polo with a popped collar but he is blond(ish), tanned and in shape. You are none of these. Do not wear. DO NOT WEAR! Please get a girlfriend and let her dress you. That is all.
Rex Ryan always looks like he just dropped a huge deuce 2 minutes ago.
Good thing Ufford’s in the pic.
Otherwise I’d wonder why Broadway Joe was wearing shades indoors.
The Namath/Ufford picture could be the movie poster for Weekend at Bernie’s 3
“NEVER INTERRUPT A DRUNK MAN IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING TO REMINISCE” might be the most brilliant thing you’ve written Drew. Kudos. Ending the decade with a bang.
Thank you for the Cathy Lee Crosby reference. That’s Incredible!
And you know that Fran Tarkenton could please Miss Crosby better than Namath or Theismann ever could.
@Otto – sounds like you’ve used that excuse in the bedroom. Mailbag question time
I feel like ramming a brick wall with my dick.
I hope this god among men wins a Superbowl someday.
This guy’s been fucking on bear rugs for DECADES.
This is true.
NEVER INTERRUPT A DRUNK MAN IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING TO REMINISCE!
Also true. Drunks do three things: reminisce, drink and hit on out-of-their-league trim.
Oh and throw up. Guess that makes it four things.
Khoach Ryan: Man of the fuckin’ decade.
FUCK FIRE = Epic Win
Is Broadway Joe holding a shot?
Only for a second. A good quarterback has a quick release.
Isn’t Drunken Joe Namath a redundancy?
Namath’s unique Beaver Falls accent is hard to convey in writing.
The Jets have announced that there will be no booze sold at the game, that should make things interesting in the parking lots.
Best inhead picture to watch game with! HNY
/it’s 5 o’clock somewhere
/wait, doesn’t matter
Why is Namath standing next to a poorly dressed vampire?
I had Pussypot on my Christmas list, but my wife got me a sweater.
Is Broadway Joe holding a shot?
Is it wrong that my nuts tingle everytime the door flies open and I know good old Rexy is gonna be coming through?
This is how he new year should start. Rex Ryan rallying the troops!
I recognize the codger, but who’s the albino in the child’s large polo?
Parades and tits? The Jets must have commented well this week.
I feel like running through a brick wall right now
Actually, when you stand him next to Ufford, Joe looks much more vital than he has in years.
That picture of Joe is absofuckinglutely spectacular. If that was me I’d have an 8×10 framed on my mantle. Hell, I’d have it on my nightstand. Maybe a copy in the bathroom too.
If the last image on KSK this year is Ufford and Drunken Broadway Joe, well… I guess it’s a fitting end to 2009
I want parades and tits!
No chance, old timer! Coach Ryan has to go punch a wall, and then go to the ER to treat the hand!
/golf clap
Broadway Joe looks like hell.