glanville

I hear yer lookin’ for a new football coach. Shoot fella, this is your lucky day. It just so happens that, after much careful reflection, I have decided to draw a curtain on my distinguished college coaching career and return to the scene of my greatest triumphs, the NFL!

Hey fella, you know what this league doesn’t enough of anymore? Zany coaches! When I was in the league, there was a place for a zany coach, now everyone is so durn serious all the time. But I got some good dad-gum news for you. You are gonna make me your new football coach and we are gonna turn this league on its dad-gum ear!

Looka me fella, I wear a cowboy hat. You know who just loves cowboys? Why kids, that’s who! Hire me as your next coach and your kid attendance will double in a season. Double or I eat this here Stetson. Kids love cowboys and I am the greatest cowboy the great state of Michigan has ever produced. We can even dress some of the coloreds up like Indians! It’ll be zany, I tell ya!

An’ I’m not just a cowboy! Imma tough guy, fella! I wear black! A tough guy who’s also a turd of a race car driver! And don’t forget zany, watch me dump this grape jelly in my trousers and do the Charleston! Ha-cha-cha! Boy howdy, that’s zany!

But of course, you’d have to be zany as a polecat to leave game tickets at will-call for Elvis Presley, but that’s what I do. Course, I gotta keep the act fresh. I’ll prolly leave tickets for Michael Jackson or mebbe John Kenneth Galbraith. Don’tcha think people will just eat that…

What’s that? You already hired a coach? Perry Fewell? Never heard of him? Well heck, fella, why dincha say so? Say, you reckon the Oilers need a coach?