How fired is your beleaguered coach? A good question to ask this time of year, especially if you’ve been going to work, doing a shitty job, and losing football games. The current round up of those lining up to meet the vocational grim reaper and their relative metaphorical equivalents follow.

Houston Nutt.

How fired is he? Explosively fired, man. Hmm…if he were an element, he’d be pure sodium. You know, the stuff your friend Todd decided to steal from the chem lab in high school? Because he read it was explosive and whatnot, right? And put it in his back pocket and sat down, removing a clean, sirloin-sized chunk of his buttocks? (Todd was cool like that. Kids with parents in jail typically are.)


Fired? Oh, I’ll make them all pay, I will! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA

Houston Nutt shouldn’t be near any open flame right now. If he were transported on trucks, they’d have to have a special sticker to cross state lines with him, and you’d swerve several lanes over to avoid getting to close to it. Tactical scrutiny has now gotten easier and more common than ever: against Auburn, Darren McFadden received a mere 17 carries without the excuse of being drastically behind, as the Tigers only scored nine points in four quarters. (Tuberville, up by a field goal, decided to protect the lead by running. This is not a joke. He did.)

Most damning is Nutt’s political situation: his protector and sponsor, Frank Broyles, is stepping down as AD after this year, leaving Nutt and an extremely, um…”participatory” fanbase to shake the torches at the gates until he goes, even if they don’t have a clue who’ll take the gig once Boss Hawg is gone. They’ve got planes and shit, man. You can’t fight that.

We just consider it a miracle they didn’t unfurl the banner and unleash the five hundred pounds of malathion they’ve got in the back on the crowd, or weed, or whatever else you know an Arkansas pilot hustles around in a Cessna to make ends meet.

He should go into… Restaurant management. The mix of speed-freak mania and lack of attention to detail should be instantly recognizable to any of our brothers and sisters in the filthy half-apron club. Nutt doesn’t know where these chicken fingers are going, and he doesn’t care–but they’ve been under the goddamn heat lamp for three minutes now, and they’re going somewhere with you right now, kid. Oh, and your ass looks like candied ham in those pants. Meet him in the office in five.

Bill Callahan, Nebraska.

How fired is he? So fucking fired.

How soon? Soon. As in possibly today, if you believe rumors, and we always do. The rumor mutates by the hour, but either Nebraska AD Pederson, Callahan, the defensive staff, or varying combinations thereof will all be gone before the coffee in your break room goes cold. The latest unverified, sexy rumor: the extremely unsexy Buddy Ryan will come in to be the interim coach when Callahan is given the cornhole and unceremoniously booted from his job. We want this to happen if only to watch Ryan, perpetually drunk on rageahol, corrupt youth by offering cash bounties on opposing players and get into a fistfight with inflatable mascot/nightmare vision Lil’ Red. Because he will do both.

He should become… a high school physics teacher.

Student: My, that’s a big book, Mr. Callahan.

Mr. Callahan: Yes, it is. Physics requires dedication, Tommy.

Student: Can you teach me what’s in the book, sir?

Mr. Callahan: Of course not. There will be a test tomorrow, though.

Student: I hate you, Mr. Callahan.

Mr. Callahan: I’ll be in the teacher’s lounge, reading Popular Mechanics, Tommy. Good luck.

The talent for making simple things into complex, incomprehensible arcana with poor results just seems like too perfect a fit.

Dennis Franchione, Texas A&M

How fired is he? That information will cost you $1200 dollars a year, payable to Mike McKenzie, Esq. We’ll guess completely and utterly fired.

How soon? Depends on when and if A&M decides to jump on the new hottness of firing coaches prior to the final game of the season. The gambit worked perfectly for Florida when they pre-empted the competition in the Urban Meyer sweepstakes; if A&M does decide to follow suit, we could be talking a matter of weeks.

If not, they’ll drag it out ’til just after the Texas game. Either way, Franchione’s taken away the inevitable lawsuit following his firing with Newslettergate, and taken away any defense with his playcalling and performance in the Miami and Texas Tech games. The Aggies and Huskers combined are killing the vulture populations of the Heartland; caught between two such tantalizingly awful smells, they’re dropping dead of exhaustion flying between the two.

He should become…a personal injury attorney. Lionel Hutz, move over. Coach Fran’s about to make sure you get the settlement you deserve. Remember, you’re limping on the left leg, client, the left leg. The one Fran labeled for you on the top of your shoe.


Feel the power of a Mexican law degree, citizens of Texas! This message brought to you by Franchione and McKenzie, attorneys-at-law.

Oh, there’s more, especially in the Pac-10. Later.