Bill Parcells Teaches Turner and Babich about ABC

(Cubby Bear meetng room, coordinators and assistant coaches milling about when Bill Parcells enters with Lovie Smith)

Bill Parcells: Let me have your attention for a moment. 'Cause you're talkin' about what...you're talkin' 'bout...bitchin' about that season you just shot, some son of a bitch don't want to run hard in practice, somebody don't want what you're selling, some broad you're trying to screw, so forth, let's talk about something important. Are they all here?

Lovie: All but Toub.

Parcells: Well, I'm going anyway. Let's talk about something important.

(sees Turner pouring coffee)

Parcells: Put that coffee down. Coffee's for coaches only. You think I'm fuckin' with you? I am not fuckin' with you. I'm here from Halas hall. I'm here from Ted and Jerry. And I'm here on a mission of mercy. Your name's Ron?

Turner: Yeah.

Parcells: You call yourself a coach, you son of a bitch.

Babich: I don't gotta listen to this shit.

Parcells: You certainly don't pal 'cause the good news is you're fired. The bad news is you got all you got, just one season to regain your job, starting with this season, starting with tonight's meeting. Oh, have I got your attention now? Good. 'Cause we're adding a little something to this years bonuses. As you all know, first prize is the Lombardi Trophy. Anybody want to see second prize? Second prize is a pat on the back for making it back to the Super Bowl you lost in 2006. Third prize is your fired. You get the picture? You laughing now? You got players. Ted and Jerry paid good money. Get their asses to work and put this team together. You can't coach the players you're given, you can't coach shit, you are shit, hit the bricks pal and beat it 'cause you are going out.

Turner: The players are weak.

Parcells: The players are weak. The fuckin' players are weak? You're weak. I've been in coaching 30 years ...

Babich: What's your name?

Parcells: Fuck you, that's my name. You know why mister? Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove a fucking Escalade. That's my name.

(To Turner)

Parcells: And your name is you're wanting. You can't play in the man's game, you can't coach them? Then go home and tell your wife your troubles. Because only one thing counts in this life. Get them to play in that game in February. You hear me you fuckin' faggots.

(Points to the dry erase board)

Parcells: ABC. A, Always, B, Be, C, Coaching. Always be coaching. Always be coaching. AIDA. Attention. Interest. Decision. Action. Attention. Do I have your attention? Interest. Are you interested? I know you are 'cause it's fuck or walk. You coach or you hit the bricks. Decision. Have you made your decision for Crisakes? And action. AIDA. Get out there. You got the prospects coming in, you think they came in to get out of the rain? A guy don't walk in here unless he wants to play fucking football. They're sitting out there waiting to give you their all. Are you going to take it? Are you man enough to take it?

(To Babich)

Parcells: What's the problem, pal?

Babich: You, boss, you're such a hero, you're so great, how come you're coming down here and wasting your time with such a bunch of bums?

Parcells: You see this ring? You see this Super Bowl ring?

Babich: Yeah.

Parcells: That ring costs more than your life. I've made 2 trips to the Super Bowl, how many you make? You see pal, that's who I am, and you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't give a shit. Good father. Fuck you, go home and play with your kids. You want to work here, coach. You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cock-sucker. You can't take this, how can you take the abuse you get on a daily basis from Chicago media. If you don't like it, leave. I can go out there tonight, the materials you got, make myself a playoff contender. Tonight. In two hours.

(looking at Turner)
Parcells: Can you?

(looking at Babich)
Parcells: Can you?

Parcells: Go and do likewise. Always Be Coaching. Get mad you son-of-a-bitch. Get mad. You know what it takes to coach in the NFL?

(whips out his frank and beans)
Parcells: It takes brass balls to coach in the NFL. Go and do likewise, gents. The Lombardi Trophy is out there, you pick it up, it's yours, you don't, I got no sympathy for you. You want to go out tonight and figure out how to coach, coach, it's yours, if not, you're going to be shining my shoes. And you know what you'll be saying. Bunch of losers sitting around in a bar: ''Oh yeah, I used to be a coach. It's a tough racket.''

(makes drinking gesture with his empty hands ... then pulls out a stack of index cards)
Parcells: These are the new draft prospects. These are the 2008 NFL draft prospects. And to you, they're gold. And you don't get them. Why? Because to give them to you is just throwing them away. They're for coaches. I'd wish you good luck, but you wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it.

(To Babich)
Parcells: And to answer your question, pal: Why am I here? I came here because Ted and Jerry asked me to, they asked me for a favor. I said the real favor, follow my advice and fire your fuckin' ass because a loser is a loser.

Da Coach's March Letter to Duh Angelo

Hey numbnuts,

Just wanted to congratulate you on another great offseason. I mean, last season I thought you totally outdid yourself when you let your only offensive weapon go for a bag of magic beans. But this season? You're a front-runner for the INEPT hall of fame and that's saying something with that square-jawed, meathead Millen in the race; and let's not forget the crypt keeper out there in Oakland.

This year, you watched as your team tumbled back to one of the worst offenses in the NFL. And you sprang to IN-action by letting your best receiver go via free agency (you didn't even get beans this time!). Not only that, you systematically refused to sign ANY top free agent despite glaring needs at quarterback, runningback, wide receiver, and offensive line. This could be the first fucking offense in NFL history to post NEGATIVE yard totals for a season. You better teach Brad Maynard how to punt lefty because you can't expect one leg to take that much abuse.

Hell you could have even shaken things up a bit by jettisoning Ron Turner in favor of someone who can spin this pile of shit you created into something that looks like an NFL offense ... but you didn't. I guess you only lose your job in this coaching staff if you take a team to a Super Bowl.

And the quarterback position? Christ on a crutch what a clusterfuck. Congrats on getting anything more valuable than a bag of balls with that Brian Griese trade; yeah, who needs an experienced veteran quarterback anyhow? And when camp opens, your plan is to have an "open competition" between Rex Grossman, Kyle Orton and some camp body to be named later?!? For christ sakes your QB depth chart looks like a washed-up hooker: two useless boobs and one gaping hole. I hope you kept Henry Burris' and Kordell Stewart's cell phone numbers, you may need'em this year.

Finally, your number four overall selection at runningback is now entering his 5th season. Cedric "2 yards and a cloud of Bust" Benson reminds me of a young Rashaan Salaam ... minus the talent, speed, field vision, desire, dedication, and class. How he remains on this team is a mystery to myself, Chicago fans, the coaching staff, teammates, Benson himself, and even his own mother.

In short, you have finally amassed an offensive roster so talent-less, the XFL looks like a superior product. Jump out a fucking window.

Da Coach