MORNING CONSTITUTIONAL: THE ZOOKER RIDES AGAIN

Jonathan Daniel

YOU BOUGHT A ZOOK

Ron Zook--no longer [NAME REDACTED] on this site--has a job. A football job, the kind where you do football things and get paid money to do them, and not a job at a bank. He'll be coaching outside linebackers for the Packers, and probably doing a bit of recruiting. You do recruiting in the NFL, right? He's really good at that, so we hope you do.

We have no advice other than these few simple rules for living with your newly adopted Ron Zook. He's very energetic, and will require a lot of exercise. Take him on a three mile walk at minimum every morning and you should be fine. He does not eat, so do not worry about food. He will require beverages, however, so feed him only Red Bull Zero to keep his weight down and his spirits up.

He has no health problems, and will live to an expected age of 203 or so.

You should also know that this is a big and good thing for him, because he's at a great spot in his life. He failed as Florida coach, and then had a middling tenure at Illinois in one of the toughest jobs in major college coaching. (Illinois has killed every coach who has ever touched it.) He's a good position coach, and was a really, really good special teams coach for Florida at once point. You can't blame someone who is probably ideally a position coach for taking a head coaching job, and at least trying before going back to his roots.

It's a good thing for us, too, because it reminds us that none of this is forever. Ten years ago we were entering the 2004 season, and praying for the end of the Zook era, praying as much to a mighty divine blade as to a deity that it would just stop, and end, and stop killing our love of the sport of football. Ten years later, we're sitting here with another slightly beefbrained coach who's probably a good dude way over his head and struggling, and who in all likelihood is entering the last miserable, misbegotten year of his tenure at Florida.

And right now we hate football, mostly because it means watching this team, and thinking about it, and hating everything they try to do, and then fail to do in spectacular fashion. It means detailing failure, and wondering whether you will ever savor a single pleasurable moment from the game again. It would mean more of Big Dumb Will Muschamp football, the leaden, sorrow-inducing slugball that's rapidly turning the Florida football program into a middling ACC franchise.

But it also means that one day, Will Muschamp will have a job he can be good at again, and a place where he can be comfortable and happy, and we can remember this fondly as the hilarious shamblefest it was. It'll happen some day. Just tell us it'll happen some day. We'll just believe that because the alternative is horrible, and will make us hate football.

P.S. Do not feed him after midnight or he will fight the first person that gets near him. It's happened before.

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