Yes you, the hopelessly befuddled football "coach".
Look, I really wanted to like you. After a 4-19 start the last two years I had the balls to go against the entire blogosphere and remove your [Redacted] label as it applied to you as head coach of the Fighting Illini. I praised your still undeniably great recruting abilities. But recruiting does not make the coach, my friend. So looking at the overall image of your "coaching", I'm forced to do this by your own hand. That's right, "coach". Your ass is RE-REDACTED. God fucking damn you, kind sir. You know what you have cost me this day? A chance at glory. I stood on the cusp of unlimited, immortal glory. I could have stood over the shattered soul of Iggins! as his season finally, completely, sunk into unmitigated despair. But thanks to you, oh genius of the gridiron, I have lost that chance. You have given Iggins! the bragging rights, sir, and for this you may never be forgiven. Now, even should we finish the regular season 11-2 with a Big Ten Title and BCS bowl win (which only seems incredibly fucking unlikely with your solid steering of the helm, Captain Jackass), Iggins! shall have his glorious exclamation point with which to cast our entire season aside in shame. You had better go undefeated as mentioned above, "Coach". You know why? Because that's the only way to avoid the fate that you have now set before yourself at my hands, sir. Had you won this week, you could have lost every game the rest of the way and finished 6-6 after a third tier bowl loss and I'd have been fine. But no, you had to accept penalties, not once, but TWICE, that would have forced Iowa into 4th down had you declined them. You had to run the option every fucking time, when every single person watching that game knew it would fail. You know what you should have done, "coach"? What Iowa lined up and dared you to do. You should have abandoned your glitzy offense, lined up man to man, overpowered a less talented team, and you should have HANDED RASHARD MENDENHALL THE FUCKING ROCK, YOU FUCKING COCK! Not on an option pitch, not on a toss, you should have handed off the fucking ball to your powerhouse running back and let him pound his way through a defense that was daring him to try. But now that you have cost me glory over Iggins!, you must finish perfect the rest of the way or you have set into action events which can not end well for either of us, Sir. For should you lose to Michigan next week in Memorial Stadium, or even to Ohio State, I will be waiting for you. I will hunt you down in a cold fury, determined to enact my bloody revenge for this day. I will lurk in the shadows, Coach Zook. I will cover myself in the blood of my enemies who have preceeded you and I will add your bones to their heap. I will confront you in the shadows outside of your home, instilling myself with courage from a bottle of Jack Daniels, and when I have had my fill I shall shatter that bottle upon the ground between us and brawl you on the shattered glass and spilled whiskey. The battle that will follow will result only in your demise or mine, or both of us, but even if you should crawl away from the chaos covered in the blood and whiskey and glass, you will be nothing but a fragile shell of the man you are today. I will unleash my battle cry, and with it I will consume your soul, Coach Zook. And know that that was the last time you shall hear your name uttered in the halls of this website, barring nothing short of a BCS Bowl win or four straight wins over Iowa to erase the shame of this one. The time is now, Coach [Redacted], the time is now.
