RICH BROOKS SAYS THE LONG GOODBYE
by Orson on Jan 4, 2010 3:53 PM EST
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When he walked in he was wearing a suit of blue wool and a pair of shoes made of brown leather that a man only buys when he has lost all hope in youth and all perspective in his middle age. He carried a manila folder in his right hand. His left hand should have been carrying a cigarette. In a more understanding age he would have had one there, but our appointment was for 10 a.m. in the present. Both of us would just have to live with the timing.
He set the envelope on the desk and sat in the chair in front of me. I offered him a drink and he said no. The way he said no had yes behind his eyes. I know a dry drunk a mile away. They look like spent roman candles with legs and talk like priests in slow motion. I knew this man.
"So, that's it?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Lost the stomach for it at last? It's not a job for everyone."
"It's not a job for anyone," I said. I let a bit of bourbon slip down my throat. It was better than I remembered and those memories were only minutes old. "It's a job for sad-sack young men with old bodies and old men with young dreams and older men who just want to blow a whistle and pick up a paycheck worth a few more green bananas. It's for saps who wait for the guillotine instead of walking in to woods to have a chat with some wolves. It's a sucker's game and I'm one just like you but there's time for me to spend five minutes as myself in this world and I'm taking it."
He sighed. "No chance of me talking you out of it, eh?"
"There's always a chance, friend. Some dame could walk in here and wrap her arms around me and pledge her sweet love to me forever. We could move out to where the orange groves used to be in a bland perfect little roachtrap of a house and raise a few brats together along with a thousand other pleasant nobodies. I could walk out of here with a unicorn on a leash too but you and know the unicorn and the perfect woman aren't walking in anywhere for good reasons we don't understand and never will."
"Well, good luck then, Mr. Brooks. You realize you were the most successful coach we had since Bear Bryant."
"And handing it all over to a Joker, pal. But life's funny like that sometimes. Skedaddle."
He left like a paper bag leaves on the wind. I barely heard the noise the door made as it shut and left me alone in the office the way I like to be. I turned and looked at the chessboard I had set up to the Malinois Two-Step Defense. I danced with the Belgian math for a while. We've both had better dance partners.
The sun dipped into the ocean for the night and made the room dark. Barring emergencies of an unforeseen nature It would be back tomorrow. I drove home and lay in bed waiting for it. It was all there was to do. I fell asleep with the crickets singing nothing in my ear and woke up.
Sun. Reporting for duty yet again.
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Orson,
‘FIN’ indeed. I’m glad I requested a bottle from a UK fan a year ago…Gonna have to pour out a little tonight.
by Boozy McHound on Jan 4, 2010 4:04 PM EST reply actions
STOP EVERYTHING! That’s not a real chess opening.
Okay, whew, back to college football comedy blogging.
by Tim James on Jan 4, 2010 4:07 PM EST reply actions
This is the end of Coach Rich Brooks, but if there is a COTG, it will be the beginning of ESPN commentator Rich Brooks.
by Crabapple Buck on Jan 4, 2010 4:16 PM EST reply actions
I know this says “FIN” and all, but I sure as hell hope this isn’t really the last time we’ll ever get to read these entries. Damn good.
by DoubleDawg05 on Jan 4, 2010 4:28 PM EST reply actions
This is a masterpiece. I miss the man already.
by justin hampton on Jan 4, 2010 4:37 PM EST reply actions
God, we’re losing all the good cannon fodder coaches. AlGroh, Brooks, Leach, Weis, Kragthorpe, the list expands every year. Their replacements make Jim O’Brien look colorful.
by yoyofutbawl on Jan 4, 2010 4:41 PM EST reply actions
If anything, retirement ought to make Noir Rich Brooks better, but I guess there’s less chance for him to do something goofy that makes the news and provides a catalyst for an article.
Still, do you really need an excuse?
by Tim James on Jan 4, 2010 5:13 PM EST reply actions
Am I the only one who read that in Bogart’s voice?
Kudos, Orson. Otto Preminger would be proud.
by Jack Fact on Jan 4, 2010 5:23 PM EST reply actions
“4th and inches” yelled a man in black and white. His entire wretched life had been 4th and inches he thought to himself. The cold Nashville air stung his face. He wanted to go for it. His passion said wing right 31 dive, Smash mouth! He needed a drink and a quick decision. In the end, he punted. Damn it! Had the game passed him by? Had he lost his edge. He knew the answers, but they were better left unsaid. later that night, as he caressed his bourbon and the lady of the moment, he pondered his decision. Slowly, he pulled his snuggie up to his neck and closed his eyes. “Lubbock is nice this time of year, he thought to himself”.
Orson, I am going to miss Rich Brooks because of you. I hope you will keep his character alive.
Thanks!
by Ned Ryerson on Jan 4, 2010 5:26 PM EST reply actions
Orson I would be crying for the loss of Coach Brooks and Coach Brooks noir…. if I just wasn’t sitting on the edge of my chair waiting for the next character to come…
but I do wish an installment of “Beano Cook, Badass” would come out…. time for him to visit Somalia wouldn’t you say?
by BoKno on Jan 4, 2010 5:34 PM EST reply actions
Sire Schnellenberger > Noir Brooks… but barely…
by WolverineMaize2 on Jan 4, 2010 5:39 PM EST reply actions
Rich Brooks never thinks it’s too early for a cigarette, and Rich Brooks would never be mistaken for a dry drunk. Eggs and bourbon are his breakfast items of choice, son.
Therefore, Rich Brooks thinks this is bullshit.
I, however, enjoyed it. Well played.
by fresh on Jan 4, 2010 6:21 PM EST reply actions
My excitement at the prospect grew as I read each new comment, realizing that I could be in before a “bullshit” reference, alas my hopes were dashed at the last one I read, just above mine.
Also, I was also trying to think of a way to work a “bullshit” reference in to this post in any way, but couldn’t think of one. Great job as usual O, I am forwarding this to my afforementioned KY relatives as we speak. Ale-8s (and bourbon) all around! Cheers to RB!
by ClwFlGator on Jan 4, 2010 6:32 PM EST reply actions
Well played, indeed. Noir Brooks would eat Lou Holtsch, Mark May and [eminently forgettable yet polished cohost] for breakfast. With a rasher of bacon on the side, and coffee, black.
by Go Big Rev on Jan 4, 2010 7:27 PM EST reply actions
The only upside is that Brooks’s replacement is named Joker. There has to be a high probability of funny with that around.
by JD on Jan 4, 2010 7:51 PM EST reply actions
Excellent. I love the noir theme. Can you come up with a Hemingway spoof for St. Bobby?
by Cotton Hill's Shins on Jan 4, 2010 8:14 PM EST reply actions
The Detestable Mr. Leach and Noir Brooks gone? Ugh, and they didn’t even get to meet. This site just lost a bit of flavor.
by Tim on Jan 5, 2010 7:48 AM EST reply actions
Noir Brooks and Schnellenberger as Turfman’s current frontman, are some of your finest work, O. Bra-vo.
by sb on Jan 5, 2010 9:17 AM EST reply actions
I too will dearly miss Brooks noir. If, in fact, he disapears from the scene.
“He left like a paper bag leaves on the wind.” – I will find a way to integrate this into a conversation this week.
The “FIN” is brilliant.
by tzubear on Jan 5, 2010 1:31 PM EST reply actions
A lonely saxaphone wails in a rain-soaked alley for Rich. Not the best exit, but better than than feet first like all the others.
I will always think of him this way.
Thanks, Orson.
Sullivan013
by sullivan013 on Jan 5, 2010 3:23 PM EST reply actions
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