I recently wrote a piece.  It was an equivalent of a 6th grade persuasive essay; the kind teachers made you write for the state exams in hopes of keeping their job.  (I'm looking for a teaching job in the ATX, by the way.)

But I got to be honest.  If Coach Pop was ever logging onto PTR at home, wearing his snuggie, sipping herbal tea and reading my piece, I'd be quite nervous. 

It's not just the perverse pleasure he gets from watching TNT sideline reporters try to hold water, it's the overall vibe of the guy.  I respect him.  I want no one else as coach.  But I'd never fight him.  Even if I were spotted an additional appendage, I would never fight him.  I couldn't imagine playing for him, because I'm already somewhat intimidated writing goofy blogs about him.

All I'm saying is that I fear his throat choking clench, even without the Force.  I truly believe that if he were ever upset with me, my six foot five legs would be kicking a la Dance Dance Revolution 17. 

You wonder what Blair and Hill, young guys who may have a long career in the black and silver, think of such a presence as a boss.  This isn't Taoism being preached, this is Art of War. 

I've always dreamed of interviewing three people at the same time.  The selection of the three may qualify me for some type of masochist, but I still think it would be the best three part JJ Tyler Special ABC could ever drop a dime for. 

1: Tommy Lee Jones

2: Coach Pop

3: Cormac McCarthy. 

I've never seen an non-akward interview with any of these people. 

I know number one and three are somewhat friends.  I wouldn't be surprised if number two fits in there somewhere.  There just seems to be a mutual amount of curmudgeonry, and geographically they're close enough to form a sort of Captain Planet of disdain for those who waste their time. 

Happy Halloween everyone.  Lookign forward to Saturday night.