Atlantic Coast Conference Commissioner John Swofford holds an emergency meeting with his football coaches after a particularly disastrous week for the conference.
Swofford: Hello everyone. I don’t think I need to explain why we’re here. You watched it all tight before your eyes. As you know, the realignment of the ACC was designed specifically to improve our football standing. So far, it appears to have had the opposite effect, as the teams who were expected to lead this conference have, shall we say, faltered. What has happened in the last four seasons is bad enough, but last week have made things really bad. Gentlemen, we are officially a football conference in crisis. Let’s start with the obvious. Tommy, what the hell happened in Atlanta?
T. Bowden: Well, I for one was quite surprised by the way the game turned out. Alabama came to play, and we never controlled the line of scrimmage, but I honestly don’t know exactly what went wrong.
Swofford: How were you not prepared for these guys? You were supposed to be the crown jewel of this conference, and you let the 5th best team in the SEC hold the ball for 41 minutes! FORTY ONE MINUTES! And you don’t know what went wrong? This always happens with your team! You have one of the most talented teams in the country….start playing like it!
Anyway, moving on. Frank, what your excuse for that eyebleeder of a game against East Carolina?
Beamer: Well, I thought that our defense played well, but we don’t have a great running game, and we were particularly unlucky to lose on that blocked punt.
Swofford: Oh come on! You have a fifth year senior at quarterback in his third year as a starter, and he still plays like a confused tree. What were you thinking redshirting Taylor? Glennon doesn’t have any athletes to fall back on!
Beamer: I know, but I’m thinking about the future, how good we’ll be in 20–
Swofford: for the sake of our conference, you need to worry about this year! Now where’s Tyrod?
Beamer: Well, to protect him until next year I had a few rogue Tech engineering students shrink him so I could store him under my chin graft.
Swofford: That’s mind-bendingly disgusting. Get him out of there.
Beamer: (sighs) fine. (Removes tiny Taylor from under chin, shoots with “VPI” unshrink ray)
Tyrod Taylor: (panting, wheezing) FREEEE – (gasp) – DOMMMMMMMmmmm…(Passes out from oxygen rush)
Beamer: He’ll be okay. Moving on, problem solved.
Swofford: I’ll deal with you later. As for you Tom, I know you’re rebuilding, and I know you lost your starter in the first half. But seriously, what the hell was that?
W e e l l l j o h n t h e r e w a s n t m u c h t h a t w e w e r e a b l e t o c o n t r o l i n t h a t g a m e i t h o u g h t w e w e r e o k a y u n t i l t h e d e f e n s e r a n o u t o f g a s i n t h e s e c o n d h a l f
Swofford: I don’t know. Yore offense never seemed to work no matter who was under center, and you made Chris Smelley look like an All-American. Say…you didn’t let your team watch Dr. Lou at halftime, did you?
O’Brien: U h h h h h h h h. . . . . . . . . . . n o?
Swofford: You’re lying. Moving on. Ralph, Butch, we all know about how challenging top I-AA teams are these days, but you’re pretty much the only BCS teams to let your opponents stay close.
Ralph: Well, we both have young teams–
Butch: In a transition period–
Ralph: And there were expectations built up–
Butch: And our guys bought into the hype–
Ralph: And the teams we played are FCS contenders–
Butch: But we won, and that’s what matters.
Swofford: Interesting… but that explanation makes about as much sense as German Spongebob!
It makes no sense. Unless you studied abroad in Freiburg.
Jim Grobe: Excuse me, but why am I here? Wake is one of the few teams pulling its weight here.
Swofford: You know I appreciate what you’re doing, Jim, but the mere fact that you might become a football powerhouse in this conference is alarming in its own right.
Swofford: Now, on to Mr. Bowden. Sir, your team didn’t even play this week, and I already have a sinking feeling about you and your meteorologist quarterback.
B. Bowden: zzzzzzzzzz…..
Swofford: Tommy, could you make yourself useful and wake up your father?
T. Bowden: Daddy…Daddy, wake up, John wants to talk to ya. Daddy? DADDY!
B. Bowden: YOU’LL NEVAH CATCH MEE YUH VAAAAHL ITALIAN! YORE GOIN TO HEY-YULL! (pushes an unsuspecting Tommy)
T. Bowden: AAAAAAAHHHHHHH (falls out window)
Swofford: I guess that…er, inadvertently solves one problem for the moment. For the rest of you, Get your butts in gear starting this week. We need to rebuild our reputation. This meeting is adjourned.