Finding common ground
It’s a little before 4 on Saturday afternoon at Apple Annie’s Casino, Sports Bar and Exotic Dance Emporium in Duckwater, Nev. At a corner table with a clear view of the stage and easy access to the sports book – not hard to find, this being a one-room joint – sits a fair-haired man wearing a ball cap that reads “Beach Football,” hunched over some papers. He looks up from his reading to see an older gent approach the table with a gait that suggests that his hips have been in recently for a tuneup.
“Well,” he says, rising. “Coach P. Wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
Coach P: “No sweat, Coach Neu. Booster flew me out at halftime. We were boat-racing SMU anyway. Nobody will even notice I’m gone. Have any trouble getting here?”
Coach Neu: “Left Seattle right after we beat Ferndale. Used your directions: Drive halfway to El Paso and meet you at the first place that looks as god-forsaken as Pullman.”
Coach P: “You starting in already? What’s that you’re reading? Can’t be a rule book.”
Coach Neu: “Just some old e-mails from the compliance lady that I never bothered to look at before. You never know where you might find a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Coach P: “Last time I saw you, the refs were stealing another one from us. That was a forward pass, you know, not a backwards pass.”
Coach Neu: “I know all the bottles flying out of the stands were forward passes from backwards yahoos.”
Coach P: “So, have they kicked off the Apple Cup yet?”
Coach Neu: “In a minute. Still doing the pre-game show.”
Coach P: “Wait, that’s a promo for ‘The Biggest Loser.’ “
Coach Neu: “Same thing.”
Coach P: “Man, can you believe what’s happened to the Huskies?”
Coach Neu: “Can you believe what’s happened to the Cougs?”
Coach P: “Can you believe what’s happened to us?”
Coach Neu: “Hey, you’re doing all right. You’re the toast of El Paso.”
Coach P: “Actually, the toast of El Paso is, ‘Here’s to not being Juarez,’ but I appreciate the sentiment. And you, you’re the toast of ….”
Coach Neu: “I’m toast if I turn up at a Tyee Club tailgate.”
Coach P: “You mean they’re trying to pin this 1-9 season on you?”
Coach Neu: “The 1-9 season, the suspect quarterbacks, Dr. Feelgood’s prescription pad, the monorail tug-of-war, the traffic on 405, Tim Eyman’s next initiative – if it’s bad, it’s because of me. If Keith Gilbertson’s letter jacket is the wrong size, I’ll take the rap for that, too.”
Coach P: “I did see some tape on the Arizona game. I’m not sure Isaiah Stanback is a Pac-10 quarterback, coach.”
Coach Neu: “Now that was all a big misunderstanding. I was talking to the staff about Kenny Lewis, the tailback we were recruiting, and I said, ‘Just sign him and stand back, fellas,’ and they thought I said, ‘Sign him and Stanback.’ “
Coach P: “I guess I can believe that.”
Coach Neu: “You can? Man, I wished you’d been the NCAA investigator on my case. Hey, you’re one to talk, Mr. Quarterback U. What happened to Wazzu’s stockpile? Aren’t the Cougs down to the Brink kid and a freshman they’re desperate to redshirt?”
Coach P: “Well, maybe if you hadn’t STOLEN CARL BONNELL OFF OUR ROSTER!”
Coach Neu: “You see? You see how easy it is to always blame Coach Neu? I suppose it’s my fault you didn’t sign the contract at Alabama? My fault you passed out in the motel room next to a strange woman?”
Coach P: “No, that was hubris.”
Coach Neu: “Hubris? Is that a red wine or a white?”
Coach P: “I think it’s your blood type.”
Coach Neu: “So why did you pick this place for us to watch the game?”
Coach P: “Pretty obvious. It’s centrally located between both of our homes. Why’d you pick this table?”
Coach Neu: “It’s centrally located between our, uh, vices.”
Coach P: “Tell me, do you regret gambling in that NCAA basketball auction?”
Coach Neu: “I never gambled.”
Coach P: “Can’t you ever tell the truth?”
Coach Neu: “Not the first time. But like you always say, everyone deserves a second chance.”
Coach P: “I just don’t get it. When I was confronted with what I did, I ‘fessed up – and got fired without pay, slimed in Sports Illustrated and had my lawsuit against the university tossed out of court. You lied, got a free pass from the NCAA and now you’re going to wind up with some sweet settlement from the school.”
Coach Neu: “You need more than a good lawyer. You need an idiot in the compliance office.”
Coach P: “Hey, any score yet?”
Coach Neu: “It’s 0-0 in the second quarter. The Cougs’ defensive backs have caught more passes than their wide receivers. The Huskies scripted their first 10 turnovers.”
Coach P: “Man, my buddy Dobes is looking like he could bite the first-down chain in half.
Coach Neu: “And look at Gilby. One more injury and he’ll have to send the malamute in at linebacker.”
Coach P: Speaking of mascots, did you hear about me in the miner’s outfit?”
Coach Neu: “I didn’t know you still went in for trick or treat. Seriously, you’ve done a great job with that team.”
Coach P: “Well, I’m not going to lie – we ain’t beating up on USC and Cal. Hawaii lost to Florida Atlantic. San Jose State lost to the Huskies, for Gilby’s sake. Rice gave up 70 points. Everybody gives up 70 points. But the players deserve to have something good to happen to them and the town has been great to us. We’re going to the Silicon Valley Bowl and everyone thinks it’s Shangri-La. Too bad the Cougs couldn’t join us.”
Coach Neu: “So how long until you demand a raise?”
Coach P: “About 10 minutes after the Silicon Valley Bowl. How long you going to keep coaching high school quarterbacks?”
Coach Neu: “Well, lately I’ve had better luck coaching them than recruiting them.”
Coach P: “You know, I’ve got to say – I miss not being on the sidelines for the Apple Cup.”
Coach Neu: “Me, too.”
Coach P: “Say, there’s a dancer up there who’s starting to look familiar. See the one I mean?”
Coach Neu: “Yeah. Her picture was on the lobby card. Destiny something.”
Coach P: “Check!”