So much bloodshed...and so interesting, too. The coaching carousel gets mortally serious after a madcap weekend of foozball. The body count:
--Shula, gone. His replacement will be Nick Saban, Steve Spurrier, or the reanimated corpse of Howard Schnellenberger. Whaddya mean he's not dead? Okay, the reanimated corpse of Pat Dye. Wait, come on, now...don't coaches ever die around here?
Shula cannot coach and should leave the profession. Most everywhere he's been, the thing he was directly in charge of was the weak link on the team. To say that his last name was irrelevant to his rise through the coaching ranks is a brazen mistruth; he ran a deplorable offense at Tampa in the NFL and was fired, and ran a deplorable offense in the SEC and was fired, and if put in charge of another football team will run their offense into the turf before getting axed. He should serve steak or cash in on some other benefit of being a Shula, and will likely then be fired from that job, too, before settling into a pleasant life of dithering away his 4 million dollar buyout. Alabama is already better off without him.
Shula, gone. Shula love...lamp, $4 million dollar buyout.
Who they should hire: Paul Johnson or Jim Grobe. Both guys who can coach their ass off who aren't retread refugees from the NFL with glorious college pasts to haunt them. Paul Johnson in particular would be a great fit, since he already sounds like the head football coach at Alabama and can succeed in multiple offensive systems. Whatever happens, keep Joe Kines in Tuscaloosa; besides one complete humiliation of Florida (owww....still burns...), Joe Kines has been the adult in the room for Alabama over the past three years. Losing him would be a tragedy, if only for the lost redneck pidgin soundbites he doles out weekly.
--Mark Dantonio, late of Cincinnati, gets the Michigan State job. First and most difficult task: explaining this "dee-fence" to Michigan State players, who collectively qualify as refugees for suffering blunt trauma to the soul after this season's zany negligence under John L. Smith. Being a Saban acolyte, he has already outlawed fun and made a man twice his size cry just by text messaging him (FROM: MaDant HLLO FaTTIe SeE U N W8 ROom LoL!!111)
--The Chuck Amato Survival Meter, like Amato himself, has been retired involuntarily. He said he would not resign, and, well, he won't have to. NC State fired Coach Gazongas yesterday. We'll miss those sweet, sweet coconuts, Chuck.
--Dirk Koetter, out. Norm Chow's already picked out the drapes for Koetter's old office, and they're totally chic.
Again: why wouldn't he just hop a flight to Tallahassee to hand in his resume in person for the offensive coordinator at Florida State? Doing anything at all will guarantee a burnished reputation for the next person to take that job; actual success would drop jaws, since the last time points lived in Tallahassee Snoop Minnis was the one hauling in passes.
Ah, back when they were talented and evil: Snoop Minnis and the go-go Noles.
BTW: if Florida State does not have its own receiver name Hall of Fame, there is no justice in this world. Examine:
There's a quad set right there of sheer greatness, a trio of crap/gay/just plain weird names all in a single lineup. If they signed a freshman named Felcher Shitkiss we would be delighted, if only to listen to Musburger run facefirst into it every time the kid reeled in a catch. TOUCHDOWN, SHITKISS!!! Please, God, let this happen.