Men, all this stuff you hear about Coaches not wanting to run the ball, wanting to pass all the time, is a lot of bullshit. Coaches love to run. All real Coaches love the sting and clash of running the ball down the other team’s throat. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Coaches love a running team and will not tolerate the forward pass. Coaches play to win all the time. That's why real Coaches have never passed and will never pass in a game. The very thought of passing is hateful to Coaches. Smash Mouth Football is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.
A running team is a real football team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and plays as a team. This quarterback and wide receiver stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real football than they do about *******. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we're going up against.
When you recruit a passing quarterback, he just wants to throw it all game long, and a defensive player will get him eventually. The hell with that. My players don't throw footballs. Passing only kills drives. Keep running. We'll win this game, but we'll win it only by running and showing the other team that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to run over bastards, we're going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the cleats of our shoes. We're going to rack up rushing yards on those lousy pass happy *********** by the bushel-*******-basket.
I don't want any messages from the huddle saying 'Let’s throw the ball, Coach.' We're not throwing a goddamned thing. We're running constantly and we're not interested in passing anything except the goal line. We're going to hold the defensive player his balls and we're going to run over his ***; twist his balls and kick the living **** out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to run the ball and keep on running the ball. We're going to run through the secondary like **** through a tinhorn.
Then there's one thing you men will be able to say when your fake college football career is over. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great Gridiron Dynasty?' You won't have to cough and say, 'Well, your granddaddy shoveled **** in Louisiana.' No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say 'Son, your granddaddy ran the ball with the great Wishbone Offense and a son-of-a-goddamned-***** named Coach Harriswb3!'
All right, you sons of *******. You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys onto a football field anytime, anywhere. That's all.