A Word From Bill Belichick to His Prodigal Sons

belichick.jpgAll the little fledglings who left my nest, see how their wings have been clipped. First Romeo, then Eric. Charlie is surely not long for Notre Dame. It shan’t be long before they come begging for refuge. And I shall refuse them. Not because I am cruel, but because they must learn for themselves the pain we must all endure in this vale of tears.

And also because I am cruel. Quite a bit, actually.

I shall, however, pass along these words of advice on what to do once the axe has dropped.

When you clean out your office, everything goes in the shredder. Playbooks. Game film. Third string tight ends. Shred it all to ribbons. Then shred the ribbons. Then burn the shredded ribbons. Then eat the ashes of the burned shredded ribbons. The next time you take a dump, you do it in a 12-foot-deep hole, which you then fill with cement. And before the cement hardens, throw some pit bulls in it. That will keep neighboring children away.

You now have a choice to make. In the wake of this incident, you can choose to be humble and take your lumps. You can choose to discover within yourself a kindness and charity you never thought possible.

These would be the wrong choices. What you must do is recognize this humiliation for what it truly is: a forge in which you shall rehsape your soul. You shall hone it to a sharp point, and you shall use that soul-blade to smite your enemies!

This is also an excellent opportunity to update your Enemies List. I prefer to do this on a daily basis, but I realize that simple weekly checkups may suffice for most coaches.

Some head coach somewhere shall offer you a coordinator’s job. He shall count on your desperation to ensure your fealty and a cheap price tag. Accept the position and the pittance it pays, but do not forfeit your allegiance. For no one deserves it but Gorlaqk.

Yes, Gorlaqk is responsible for my coaching prowess. You didn’t believe it
was due to intense study of game film and inspiring leadership in my players, did you? No, all my achievement flows from the fount of Gorlaqk, as deep and rich as blood from a freshly sliced throat.

All hail Gorlaqk the Dread! Tremble before his mighty talons! Lay before him your first-fruits, and he shall reward you with riches and success, and many, many hooded sweatshirts!