Yeah, it’s me again, your favorite son, Steve Addazio.
I just got back from the hospital visiting that 8th grade girl that cracked her head open and broke four of her ribs slipping and falling while she was diving for her middle school team. I spent four hours begging and pleading with her to come speak to my Owls, who seem in dire need of some inspiration to vow to never ever break off ties with the dive play. No matter how hard I tried to convince her, she refused.
I did get a small consolation prize, however. I took a picture of her face (she was really pretty) all twisted in pain, and then, when I was at the doorway, I took another one of all the boys who came to flock over her. Many of the guys were big monsters, which was perfect.
When I talk to my players again, I’ll show them the two pictures. The first one, of just her, has a caption underneath (I spent all of 7 weeks figuring out how to master paint on my computer. Aren’t you proud of me???) that reads- what your face will look like after running dives for 3 months, and the second will read- what the dive play looks like to a neutal party, like a referee.
Anyway. Enough with the dive play.
Back at Florida, I had a system- if you don’t sign a waiver promising to love, adore, adopt, breathe and live the dive, then you didn’t play in the games. Andre Debose threw this waiver in my face the second he saw it. Such an act of treason will not be condoned in my kingdom!!! After three games, Jeff Demps walked into my office and tore the waiver up right in front of me. This also infuriated me. Mike Gillislee tried it for a few weeks and then told me he was using it as a condom. It worked- his girlfriend is not pregnant, and it’s been a few months now. But maybe it was effective because it was 98983795749373945739373494749403028273474384849493738343383 pages long, all relating to live and respect of the dive.
But for good reason, the fans get extremely pissed off when they hear something like this. All you Florida fans are too stupid and not understanding enough to realize that it will all work out in the end, so I had to use a little creativity. I had to devise a plan.
I was walking down the street when I stepped on a beer can. I rolled my ankle and I thought, “THAT’S IT!!!”
And so, the sprained-ankle plan was born.
It works like this- players that refuse to sign the waiver or vandalized it are called sprained ankle game time decisions. And even though Andre Debose scored an average of 59 times in practice, he abused the sacred waiver and that’s all there is to it.
But the same went for Demps, Gillislee, Robert Clark, Stephen Alli, Chris Dunkley, Frankie Hammond, Omarious Hines, Mack Brown, and Gerald Christian.
Chris Rainey was another story. He loved the dive play from Day 1. One night, he and I did some naughty things and lost our minds. Well, I did, anyway. He inhaled all my smoke from my weed because he was laughing so hard as I described my brilliant philosophy. By the way, I always get high just before a game, but I try to keep myself high throughout the week to avoid getting sick. Isn’t that how that works?
Anyway, I poured out my extensive knowledge of football, and while he laughed, he kept inhaling my smoke. I have to repeat everything for you stupid Gator fans, it’s getting annoying. Anyway, he inhaled so much smoke and got so high that he thought he was in love with his on again, off again girlfriend, and decided to propose to her.
Now, since the dive play waiver reads kind of like a love story, Rainey thought that he could pull a quote straight from the decillion page pamphlet. He scanned it for hours, and in his altered state, found a question that I put in there just to make sure that people were paying attention, kind of like in a textbook that read, “What time is it if the game starts at 3:30 on CBS, and we have the ball first?”
The answer: time to dive, bitch.
But Rainey, stupid Rainey, forgot the V. THE FRIGGIN V!!! HOW COULD YOU CHRIS!!! YOU SOILED THE HOLY NAME OF THE DIVE PLAY!!!
I also don’t know why he picked that question/quote. There was a whole chapter on loving the dive play dearly and how to treat it like your wife. I just don’t get it.
Anyway, now that I’ve told yall that story, it’s time for another one.
I secretly hated Tim Tebow. I was jealous because of all the adulation he received from his fans, and wanted to share it. So I called for an end zone pass against Kentucky for two reasons.
The first reason is because I had looked in the Lexington papers that morning, and the “this day in history” section was boring. I decided to give the world something to remember on September 26th because nothing that big had happened before on that date. I decided that Sept 26 would forever on be known as the Day Steve Addazio Called For An End Zone Pass.
But I got scared- what if Tebow completed it??? Oh, God. He’d already hit one to Aaron Hernandez, but that wasn’t my call- that was an audible off of a left side dive play.
So I told Marcus Gilbert to stand two yards behind Tebow at all times, and also told him to catch his breath, he’d played really hard to that point. He started trotting off the field, but I told him NO. You’ll waste your breath running to the sidelines. Stay there, just don’t block anybody (Pouncey would win All American honors that year and all SEC the next year, no doubt because of that).
And Tebow got hit from his blind side, and got a concussion. I tried not to let my joy show- but Taylor Wyndham did that for me.
Oh!!! There’s one more thing I wanted to tell you guys. I’ve been poring over my playbook thinking of new, innovative ways to throw two yard screen passes. Maybe I could have the receiver fake like he’s going to block and then go two yards out and turn.
I’ve also been toying with the idea of holding up a giant billboard with the complete diagram of the type of (usually dive) play we are going to run. Or better yet, I could just allow the defensive coordinator for the other team to make the play calls.
Finally, I’ve created a new play. It’s called the deep pass. But I will only use it against overmatched high school teams, and not before the fans and the opponents see more dives than you would at a public pool.
Wait, that’s not new- I used it last year against helpless Vanderbilt and Appalachian State.
But seriously, I will be calling more vertical passes this year. Since you Gator fans know nothing about football, I will explain what a vertical pass is.
A vertical pass is any ball thrown five yards behind the line of scrimmage on third and 53.
It’s called a vertical pass because the QB is supposed to lob it high in the air, really hang it up there so even Terrence Cody could catch up to it and snag it.
So now I’m out for real. I’m heading out to the Jersey Shore, where I will be scouting out all the hot girls sunbathing in their bikinis in 10 degree weather.
Until next time… yours truly, Steve Addazio.
P.S. Happy Valentines Day!!! If anyone is ready to propse, and wants to see some really sweet proposals, I’ll send you my dive waiver/pamphlet! Check out the “Do you take the dive play to be your lawfully wedded football philosophy?” section if so!!!