Funny Stuff on Coach K

Funny article on why Coach K needs to stay at Duke - link here. Some highlights:

They don't slap their palms on the floor in the NBA. (If Shaq gets any thicker this offseason, he might not be able to see the floor beneath his feet, much less bend over and slap it.)

They don't have those precious group-hug huddles after every foul in the NBA. (Unless they're plotting a way to get the coach fired by the next TV timeout. Or, to be Laker-specific, plotting how to dynamite the ball out of Kobe's hands.)

They don't let big-name coaches bully refs into getting all the calls. (They save that for the big-name players.)

They don't have college newspapers to browbeat in the NBA, and they don't generally cotton to coaches ignoring the media for days on end. ("I love my kids," might no longer suffice as a multipurpose quote, either.)

They don't do the Cameron Crazies thing in L.A. (Go ahead, ask the Gucci Row crowd to put on the face paint and matching T-shirts and jump up and down for two solid hours. OK, maybe Dyan Cannon signs on. But that's it.)

And they don't do Krzyzewskiville. (In case you missed it, Duke students held something of a midnight vigil upon hearing the news of Coach K's possible departure. The same students who camp out for days in advance of a big game. At Staples Center they're happy if half the lower arena is full before the second quarter.)

I remember a TV timeout in a big game a few years ago, a game your team was losing at the time. I remember being behind the Duke bench to hear your right-hand man, Johnny Dawkins, drop screaming F-bombs into players' faces and obscenely impugn the masculinity of every starter in the huddle. Your face indicated that you had no problem with it, perhaps even encouraged it.

Dog-cussing the players within earshot of the stands clearly won't play in the NBA, where the chain of command works a little differently than at your alma mater, West Point.

This article is just as funny - link here.

Trust me: the first time Bryant drops a dismissive, contemptuous f-bomb on Krzyzewski during a time out, the resulting Coach K nostril flare -- is that special, special spittle on the corner of his mouth? -- will be well worth your efforts.

Worst of all, I hardly can stand to pick up Sports Illustrated's college basketball preview issue, because some overhyped Dukie like Steve Wojciehowski is always grinning back at me. Even in the years the special, special Blue Devils aren't No. 1.

So help me out. Consolidate my hate. Give me a chance to focus. Give me a chance to live. Breathe. Exhale. Leech the toxins from the oil-spill beachscape of my jet-black heart.

Set me free -- free to detest just one team.