Because John Fox' inadequacy and failure pisses me off, and I'm told that being angry around the house is unhelpful, now I'm doing this.
John Fox, A Moron
Dowell Loggains, A Fool
Vic Fangio, Examiner of the Insides of Glass Bottles
Ryan Pace, Channeling John Larroquette in "Stripes"
*Curtain rises on an office in Halas Hall. Muzak plays in the background. The smell of burnt coffee is in the air, and there is maybe half a pot left that is somehow starting to scorch.*
Pace: "So...explain yourselves."
Fox: "Well...we didn't have as many points as they did when the game ended."
Loggains: "I haven't won a game yet when that happens."
Fangio: "You know how receivers use stick 'em? I think my guys put axle grease on their gloves by mistake."
Pace: "...right, ok."
Fangio: *belch* "Sorry."
Pace: "You people need to produce answers and you need to produce them now."
Loggains: "Ok, so I heard we have this guy named Shaheen."
Fox: "We do? Who's that?"
Pace: *eyeballs Fox*
Loggains: "Turns out he's freaking huge and he's listed on the roster as a tight end."
Fox: "Speaking of tight ends, does anyone know why we don't have cheerleaders?"
Pace: "Shut up."
Loggains, who didn't notice this exchange: "So I didn't realize this guy was on the roster. When I see 'tight end' on the roster now, all I can see is Zach's leg doing that thing it did."
Fangio: "Jesus Christ, don't remind me." *drains his coffee cup*
Pace: "Get on with it."
Loggains: "So I figured that I'd see if he could catch. Be a good test to see if we can work him into the offense as a receiver, maybe have him produce for us a bit."
Fox: "I don't agree with any of this and never have."
Loggains: "I gave Mitch a script where Adam's in it for a few plays."
Pace, growing visibly irritated: "So...I'm going to ask the obvious question...where was he the rest of the game?"
Loggains: "Where was who?"
Fangio: *belches while getting more coffee* "Sorry. I think we need to replace this coffee." *pours something into his from a flat gray flask*
Pace, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes: "Dowell..."
Loggains: "My cat's breath smells like cat food."
Fox: "Gotta say, chief, I've been against this move from the start."
Pace, visibly relieved: "I'm glad to hear that, John. Could you explain that to me?"
Fox: "Well, sure. See, the way football is supposed to be played, that is absolutely the wrong way to use a tight end."
Pace, who thought he knew where this was going and is now discovering that he was wrong, "Go on..."
Fox: "So it all ties back to the original theory of the I-formation and football as it was played under Papa Bear."
*angelic choir music, light shines on a grayscale portrait of George Halas on the wall*
Fox: "There was a lot of success using ends as blockers in different schemes. They could block to the left, the right, go upfield and block linebackers, good ones could block anyone anywhere at any time. There was even one formation where the tight end lined up behind the quarterback, but ahead of the fullback and the halfback. Heresy, I told them, but they insisted. I was right, and that's why you never see that formation any more."
Loggains: "How did you make the light do that?"
Pace: "John...when was this, exactly?"
Fox: "Must have been...1937. We won one game with that formation and they thought it was the greatest thing in the world."
Loggains, while furiously and belatedly taking notes: "Success...schemes...jump to the left, then a step to the right...heresy...blood for the blood god..."
Fangio: "That was a good question about the cheerleaders, by the way. I hafenseenem in...how long?"
Mitchell Trubisky, via lean-in from the open office door: "Hell yeah, why don't we?"
Pace: "Son, this is a leadership meeting."
Loggains, looking up from his notepad, "Yeah, Mitch, you've got drills to work on."
Fox: "No, wait, 1936."
Fox: "Yeah, that was the year I finally caved in and had to go away from the single wing for a few plays. If Dad had seen it he'd have died of shame."
Pace: "John, I wasn't talking to you."
Trubisky: "So does anyone know why we don't?"
Fangio: "Uh...I saw 'em in San Fruh...Frehn...Francis. Yeah, that's it."
Deadpool, while running through the building and shooting at somebody, "WHERE'S FRANCIS?!"
Pace: "Mother of God."
Trubisky: "So yeah, I think I have drills to do."
Fox: "Remember, kid: it's always the dummy from behind you that you have to afraid of."
Trubisky: "Will do, coach, see you later!" *runs off in the opposite direction from Deadpool*
Fangio: *belch* "Whah couldn Binny's haffa blue label?"
Pace, shuffling papers and growing depressed: "Dowell..."
Loggains: "Yeah, chief?"
Pace: "Can you explain these drills? I'd like to know what you're having my #2 overall pick, who I traded to the 49ers to take, do for practice."
Fangio: "Yeah, forryninners, that'sem! I wrecked house widdem!"
Loggains: "So this is genius. It's based on Japanese kabuki theater."
Loggains: "Yeah! It's this old ninja football technique I read about."
Loggains: "Somewhere. Anyway, the idea is that the quarterback has to dodge pressure from a bunch of guys all at once."
Pace: "So far that sounds like something you got out of QB Coaching For Dummies."
Fox: "Great book, really insightful."
Loggains: "Yeah, but here's the best bit: We put blindfolds on the QBs first."
Fox: "And to maximize time usage, we emphasize that they don't throw turnovers doing this."
Fox: "Time management, can't do without it. This way we can multitask and move on to other vital items in order to build synergy within the offense and maximalize offensive production, thus enabling our defense to immanentize their operational plans and effectively implement their strategery for removing the football from the other team's possession."
Marc Trestman, appearing from a trapdoor in the ceiling: "I heard that! That line is copyrighted! You owe me royalties! Precious, precious royalties!"
*Fangio sprays Trestman with a convenient Super Soaker. Trestman bursts into flame*
Trestman: "Aaaaaagh!" *retreats into ceiling*
Fangio: "Summa needa do somethin' 'bout dat."
Pace: "Yeah, he's on fire in my building."
Fangio: "Yeh...annim outta holy water. Wait, that was jus' Everclear."
Loggains: "I was wondering why you were hitting a squirt gun during the game."
Pace: "Ok...so...let's pick this up in a couple of hours. I need to get something first."
Fangio: "Yeh, more Everclear."
Fox: "Sounds like a plan, chief. We'll be doing what we always do after games."
Pace: "I'm sure you will, John."