JaMarcus Russell Seeks Raiders Head Coaching Job
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Here's the full letter.
Dear Al,
You told me to call you Al when you drafted me back in 2007. You said I could call you Al because you used to be a black panther. I think you said, "I feel you, baby." Then you felt my shoulder. Now I'm offering you a shoulder to lean your head on. I want you to sleep well at night, Al. I want you to do away with all your worries and climb aboard a train to Super Bowl Village. I want you to name me head coach of the Oakland Raiders. I'm ready, I'm prepared. I'm agog at the potential of the Oakland Raiders.
I can be your Pete Rose. Only without the gambling or the baseballs or the baseball bats. Really though, baseballs are just like footballs, only smaller and whiter. Also, not ovals. I'm a lot like Pete Rose too, only fatter, blacker and not prone to hustle. To be honest, I don't even like to run at all. I prefer to stand still and watch men break on me. I'm like Hemingway's Frederic Henry if Hemingway was not capable of subject-verb agreement. Quarterback-coach, it has a nice ring to it, right?
I've decided to itemize the reasons I should be coach. By the end of this letter you'll see that our philosophies, our offensive goals, my proven track record of success, the fact that you are already paying me a lot of money, myriads of reasons militate my hire.
Philosophies
Al, you like to say, "Just win, baby." My personal motto is very similar, "Just pay me, baby." See, the first and last words are already the same. The middle words are not important.
It's clear that you want to score points and I want to score points. Also, it may seem misguided now, but I want to congratulate you on snagging Darrius Heyward-Bey so early in the draft. When I first heard we took Darrius Heyward-Bey, my first thought was, "How did we draft two people with one pick?"
And I think that kind of demonstrates the difficulty with this new coordinator. See, we need to pick one name for him. Sometimes I think he's two people. And I'll go through my route progressions, look to first receiver--throw it really hard in his general direction no matter what--and I don't see two people out there running, Al. I just don't. And I know I should be able to say, "JaMarcus, snap out of it, Darrius Heyward-Bey is just one person." But then the game happens and I just get bedazzled.
So I'd suggest simplifying things. We let him pick Heyward or Bey. I think you'll agree. Then we throw it long to him on 16 consecutive pass plays.
Three words,
Stretch
The
Field
Partnership
You are almost dead and I am fat. That means we can take advantage of the dead fat bounce. Everyone knows all about this. It's when a dead person falls down and bounces back up very high. That high can be our Super Bowl. After all, victory is all about perspective. 0-16 becomes 16-0 if you stand in front of my beautician's mirror after you get your eyebrows waxed.
You'll also recall that teams typically have their best season after I leave. This means I am indivisible.
For instance, Matt Flynn won the national championship at LSU in 2007. I would have been a senior that season. but instead you signed me to a contract guaranteeing me 31,800,000,000,000 dollars. (Sometimes zeroes confuse me so I suggest drafting plays with X's and I's.) I went to the championship game and wore an awesome sweater of many colors that was inspired by my love of the Biblical prophet Joseph. I've liked Joseph ever since my brothers and sisters threw me in a well and claimed that I was dead.
Anyway, Matt Flynn at LSU is nowhere near as good as I am. He has a puny arm, wants to be a dentist, and is hung like a miniature sea horse. Whereas I have a howitzer for an arm, am currently pursuing my master's in physical education, and have a penis the size of a sea dinosaur.
I think you know what I'm talking about, yep, like a Pilosaur.
If I had to select a movie that would symbolize our relationship, I would suggest Weekend at Bernie's. I will be like the two white guys and I will make you my Bernie so that even if you die, I will carry you to the Super Bowl with me. Even if you start to smell. I will buy those smelling salts and wear them as strips underneath my nose so I can't smell you. Remember A Rose For Emily? You will be my Emily, Al.
My one and only rose.
Offensive Goals
My offensive goals are to have sex with a lot of women that I don't know very well.
Clearly, being head coach would make that more likely. Also, I can design plays that lead to touchdowns. How? By giving play-calling duties to my personal trainer, offensive guru Akili Smith. Lots of people think that Akili didn't succeed in football because he was dumber than a quarter horse mixed with whatever comes after a quarter horse, a fourteen horse.
That's wrong, plain wrong.
Akili is really chomping at the bit to get back into the league. (Note, I use lots of horse metaphors even though I don't know what a metaphor is. It's one of my strengths, the horse power to my cognitive engine.) Now Akili is working at a bed and breakfast in New Hampshire. He's just what we need to take the offense into the 19th century.
My Proven Track Record
Jay-Z calls it bling, I call it stats. Flip down the shades, AD.
Do you know who is completing 39.6 percent of his passes in 2009?
This cat.
Let me paint you a picture, if Pete Rose got a hit in 39.6 percent of his at-bats, he'd be hitting almost .400, right? I'm already there. You got me, the hit king meets the black Elvis.
Read the rest of the letter here. Labels: jamarcus russell al davis open letter on coaching raiders
Posted by Clay Travis at 1:58 PM
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