From the desk of Jim Harbaugh:
Here’s the deal, Michigan: I won’t be giving you some BS about my time here as coach of the football team.
Frankly it’s been pretty dismal. Being hailed as the messiah of the greatest college team in the nation was great until I failed to nail myself to that cross and win some goddamn football games. I won’t give you any dumb excuses. I attacked every day with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind, and still started the year by blowing a 16-point, second-half lead in the Outback Bowl.
Unacceptable. I’m looking for top of the line recruits, and you know what I mean when I say that–I’m talking Winterfest sorority girls-type recruits.
I don’t believe in failure, and I don’t believe in giving up even if everyone in their right mind would cut their losses and coach in the NFL. I don’t care if God himself emerged from the heavens and told me I could take the Bears to the Super Bowl.
This isn’t over until I say it is. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no. I’m gonna ride this circus train all the way to a championship if it’s the last thing I ever do.
I have spent the past few weeks in solitary confinement, locked away in one of the underground nuclear bunkers I install beneath each of my homes. No sunlight, no contact with my family or the outside world: just me, a bucket, a freezer full of beef, and game tape from this season. And I have emerged with a plan to get this piss-poor team back into winning shape: offensive linemen.
Not just any linemen, though. I’m talking about gals who are gonna stop any defensive movement from the other team immediately and with no mercy. I’m talking about cunning, ruthless, brick walls. The kind of gals Trump would line up at the Mexican border instead of a fence. The kind of gals at the bar that would punch you in the jaw for ordering anything besides a beer. The kind of gals who pour the milk before the cereal – complete psychopaths with no regard for human life.
It’s the girls who play broomball during Winterfest that I’m looking for. In my time in isolation, I discovered that what’s hip with the kids these days is beating the crap out of each other on a sheet of ice in someone’s backyard for charity. And the most impressive of these athletes were the women.
Never in my years of coaching football have I seen this kind of bloodthirst for a win. The men were good too, but nowhere near as willing to sacrifice their own bodies for the sake of the team. It was like that new Wonder Woman movie on ice — These girls were wearing little clothing and zero padding while using brooms to beat each other in order to get a ball in a net.
After the game they walked out like it was nothing, even though half of them were bleeding and the other half looked like they had broken something. I’ll tell you right now: none of the guys on the my team would have walked off the field after those injuries.
So just you wait, Michigan fans. Winterfest is this Saturday, and I’ll be there with my coaching staff to scout the future of our offensive line. These violent sociopaths are going to change the face of football, and I’ll be the one to lead them into battle.
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