Tom is excused from the sixth rule of Fight Club.

Fresh off his knockout victory over defensive assistant coach Randy Hanson, head coach Tom Cable is eager to make the next step up the coachfight contender ladder. But that doesn’t mean Cable is about to let success go to his head. “Sure, a decisive victory is always great, “ he said, “but I can’t get cocky—this guy [Hanson] is just a low-level assistant; not even a position coach.”

The beefy Cable has been coachfighting for decades, but it wasn’t until he blind-sided the much smaller Hanson that he made a national name for himself. “Like a lot of other coaches, I started out in the underground fights– bare-knuckle brawls in abandoned warehouses against over-the-hill high school coaches.  Winner take all.  In most cases ‘all’ was a can corned beef hash.”

Cable acknowledged that his fight against Hanson was outside typical coachfight protocol where intra-contests fights are typically disfavored.  “What could I do,” Cable asked, his eyes dancing mischievously, “We’re the shitty Raiders.  We can’t beat anyone else.”

But Cable’s days of toiling in obscurity over. “I’m training for my next fight,” Cable said while taking a break from the speedbag to cram a Hostess Ho-Ho® in to his gullet, “It’s against a well known tight ends coach. If I can win that one, then I should be in a line for a title fight against an honest-to-gosh offensive coordinator.”

Despite his meteoric rise, Cable is careful to keep his success in perspective. “Look, I may never be good enough to beat Tom Coughlin—that wiry son-of-a-bitch is the best for a reason.  But with a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck, I know I can knock Rex Ryan’s fat ass out.”

He doesn’t mow that field.  He cuts the grass. (Sometimes they let him paint the lines!)
He runs the hell out of a concession stand. He knows right way to top off a Pepsi so it doesn’t foam over the edge of the cup.
Every summer he helps the marching band raise money by eating their funnel cakes at the fair.
He spends his nights in a shed behind the field.
He “volunteers” at the weekly fish fry at the VFW post, but really he’s in it for the fry-batter.
He used to own a hound dog.  Used to…
The most expensive beer he drinks is Budweiser.
He did not purchase those shorts — he found them.
Though he has no children, he’s an avid supporter of the high school football team.
“You kids know about meth? I’ll tell ya about meth.”