If Football Coaches Talked Like Middle-School Girls
Viewership is down across the entire range of football broadcasts and it’s easy to see why.
Though the play on the field remains exciting enough, the pre- and post-game interview with the head coach has become mired in a predictable sameness.
There he stands behind the bank of microphones, either gallant in victory or noble in defeat, taking questions as they come.
These fellows speak in measured tones, keep their temper, and never have a bad thing to say about the other team, no matter what the provocation on the field.
No wonder viewers are tuning out!
Teams revamp their playbooks all the time; it’s time for the coach’s press conference to do the same.
Prior to the game, when asked about the opposing team, it is common for The Skipper to express admiration for the quarterback, the running game, the passing game, the team colors, the designer of the uniforms, the half back, fullback, and slot back, the cornerbacks, the tight ends, the defensive linemen, the offensive linemen, the field goal kicker, the punter, the guy who holds the ball, the return team, the linebackers, the guys who stripe the field, and the beer vendors in the stands.
Nice! Perfectly nice.
But this is yesterday’s thinking.
This lacks something of the spirit of savage competition, which after all, is down there somewhere in the lower reaches of our motivation for watching these things at all.
This polite admiring chatter is the kind of reflexive adherence to tradition that all but begs your audience to go watch something more exciting, say, a cloud of gnats considering whether or not to land on the deck railing outside the window.
How much more refreshing it would be for the coach, when asked what he thought of the opposing team, says something like, “What opposing team? You mean those guys we’re playing this Sunday? You call that a team?” In this scenario his voice will seem to express honest wonderment.
The alert viewer sits up straight. This is more like it!
The coach goes on.
“Well, I suppose there’s no accounting for taste. I call them instead a collection of misfits, similar to those items manufactured in a factory that don’t meet the quality control check at the end of the assembly line and are thrown out back behind the metal storage shed for big greasy birds to nest in and use as their personal lavatory. Next question?”
‘Bracing’ is, perhaps, the word for this unexpected tone.
The conversation moves to the topic of personal appearance and presentation of self as regards the opposing coach.
“Let me get something off my chest, boys, I think it’s important that someone brings this point out.” He pauses, wanting to choose his words carefully.
“This guy really packed on the weight over the summer, didn’t he? Hoo boy, why, if I had calves like that I think I’d keep them on the farm.”
This at least has the flavor of the true spirit of competition.
Coach next turns his attention to matters of fashion. “Did you see that outfit he had on the other day? Coach Wilcox, helllooo! The 70’s are calling and wants its suit back!”
He chortles at his jest. Pulling out the pointer he uses to describe plays in the locker room, he instead pulls up a photo of the opposing coach. “See, right here? Stripes and plaids? Take that in if you can. Stripes and plaids. There. Right there. See where I’m pointing? Is there any question that this guy’s tailor should be arrested for doing business under false pretenses? Right there.”
“Skipper, Coach Slitherer of the Abjects says that on any given Sunday any team can win. What do you say to that?”
After a hearty laugh that he has some trouble bringing to a conclusion, comes this from The Skipper: “Well,” meditating on it, “he would say that, wouldn’t he? Wishful thinking is what I say. We’re going to cream them.”
“Coach, coach, over here. Don’t you think that coaching has a lot to do with a team’s success?”
“Why certainly it does. But I can’t imagine that what they do over there can seriously be called coaching. In fact I would say the Abjects’ biggest weakness is their coaching staff, followed closely by their quarterback, the running game, the passing game, the team colors, the designer of the uniforms, the half back, fullback, and slot back, the cornerbacks, the tight ends, the defensive linemen, the offensive linemen, the field goal kicker, the punter, the guy who holds the ball, the return team, the linebackers, the guys who stripe the field, and the beer vendors in the stands.”
“Skipper, Coach Slithering says that under the right circumstances the Abjects can pull off an upset this weekend.”
“I think it’s incredibly brave of him to share his fantasies as he spirals downward in his private fantasy world. I mean, look, he’s overweight, he dresses like a haberdasher’s nightmare, he’s got thighs like the meatier sorts of upright dinosaurs, he squints and wheezes and does something funny with his nose when he’s about to sneeze. And I’m supposed to take him seriously? Please.”
Such a press conference can only serve to add to the excitement of the game, and will distinctly aid the viewer in choosing which team to root for.
