The Plane Ride Home

Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, 9/6/2009 1:53 AM, Atlanta, GA

Virginia Tech players enter their charter plane in a somber mood after a tough loss to Alabama. Offensive Coordinator Bryan Stinespring slinks into his seat next to Running Backs Coach Billy Hite in the second row as others pass. The players find their seats, leaving the coaches alone.

Bryan Stinespring: Man that was a tough loss. We really almost had them there. What do you think went wrong Billy?

Billy Hite: Dagoneman I thank it mighta bin yer playcallin I do.

BS: What? How can that be? We racked up over 150 yards of offense!

Hite: Whoona hell thanks thass good? Thas nawt eevun great fura haff.

BS: Well how much did those Tide miscreants manage on offense for the game?

Hite: I reckon it wer bout fahve hunderrd er so. You might oughta do sumpim bout...(trails off, something about NRV superbowl)

BS: What are you talking about? No way. Bud wouldn’t have let that happen. Never in a million years. And we only got 150? Gosh I hope he’s not sore with me…

Plane door is kicked open…Bud Foster storms in.

Foster: SOMEBODY’S GONNA DIE TONIGHT!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, STINESHIT?!

BS: Over here sir. (Raises hand meekly)

Foster: You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there? Seems to me my boys were on the field ALL DAMN NIGHT!

BS: Well we had a little trouble maintaining possession sir. We had a bunch of three-and-outs…

Foster: …well how the hell does that happen? Maybe if you ran some misdirection or some routes that WENT BEYOND THE DAMN FIRST DOWN MARKER WE WOULDN'T HAVE THIS PROBLEM!!!!!!

BS: Well I have an obligation to give up the run early in big games. That Terrance Cody kid was going to eat Ryan Williams for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He already took a chunk out of Beau Warren’s arm (points over his shoulder). They were getting punished out there.

Foster: Punished? PUNISHED?! You wanna see punishment? GET OVER HERE GOLDILOCKS!!!!!!!!

Starting Linebacker Jake Johnson Enters

JJ: YES SIR! YOU CALLED ME UP SIR?!

Foster: (calmly) Johnson. What happened on that screen pass to Ingram in the fourth quarter? How did he get past you?

JJ: I BIT ON THE RUN SIR! I WAS CAUGHT INSIDE!

Foster: Exactly right soldier. Do you know how I punish players that get caught inside on touchdowns?

JJ: NO SIR! NO IDEA SIR!

Foster: Well we’re gonna show Coach Stinespring how well we tolerate missed assignments…

Foster: RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (rips off Johnsons head, lifts it up by long blonde hair, drinks blood)

BS: (pees pants)

Foster: You see how we tolerate losers on defense? You’re lucky you have those pictures of Frank on that cruise, or you'd already be out of a job. You’re unlucky that you have nothing on me, and I'll do more than fire you.

BS: But I couldn’t help it! I think that Hightower kid’s a wizard! He turned Blake into stone tonight! Look!

Trainer Mike Goforth walks by wheeling a statue of right tackle Blake DeChristopher on a dolly

Foster: Good Lord…I’m so sick of your excuses. That’s absurd. Maybe if you’d call better game once in a while that kind of shit wouldn’t happen! You’re never gonna learn unless you get punished. FOSTER’S…AUSTRALIAN FOR FEAR BABY!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

BS: Oh God, oh God, oh God. I PROMISE we’ll be better next week. It’s Marshall, so we should get at least 200…

Foster: 200. 200 YARDS?! If you don’t put up AT LEAST 400 on those Thundering Turds, I’m mounting your ass on my wall. Literally. Next to Ronyell Whitaker’s. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.