This week: Who else? Bobby Petrino.
I suggest strongly that anyone and everyone reads Pat Forde's article about Bobby Petrino immediately, for it pulls zero punches and boosted my man-love for Forde at least three fold. He focused more on Petrino's personal inadequacies, I will focus more on his coaching.
Bobby Petrino, you suck. It was damn clear from almost the very beginning that you should never have gone to the NFL. I remember the first time someone asked you about Mike Vick, before the dog-fighting ordeal, and you said that you would not change your offense to utilize him. That was a dead giveaway, and it only got worse.
Next Mike Vick went to jail and you knew you had a shitty team. A good coach would have been able to keep his team together through at least one terrible season; all the players knew that with Vick gone they were going to suck. But you made every enemy you could, didn't you? You made the QB position into a never-ending revolving door, not only alienating Joey Harrington, but Byron Leftwich as well, not to mention the fans. Your decisions were so poor that you got into a confrontation with your best defensive player: DeAngelo Hall. I'm sure you thought that you could spit the same bullshit as you always have; "I love Atlanta and I'm here to stay," "My family and I want to stay here, it's where my heart is", etc. But what might be able to convince a 20 year old kid won't fool 25-35 year old men. Your players knew what you were, Bobby. A heartless, soulless, greedy bastard who would sooner abandon a sinking ship to save his-self than try to help those aboard. DeAngelo and Alge Crumpler knew this, and constantly voiced their displeasure with you.
It only got worse. You released Grady Jackson, a veteran who was practically the centerpiece for your defense. He was the core of that team, and you let him go for what? Him being the best of the worst on your team? To me, that move sealed your fate. It was apparent you didn't give a damn about the Falcons or the Louisville Cardinals. All you wanted was results and money, whoever is left battered and bruised in your wake be damned.
So now you're at Arkansas, a place that just fired a coach who did nothing but win because the fans picked apart and destroyed his personal life. I hope they do the same to you, Mr. Petrino. I hope every little dirty secret about you gets tossed around like a Thai hooker. In the end, maybe you'll learn some humility.
But I doubt it.
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