Scene, SEC Commissioner Mike Slive's office. He is sitting on a desk made of crystal footballs and melted down Susan B Anthony coins, built with the leftover slush fund from the Cecil Newton church renovation money.* A confederate flag hangs prominently behind his desk. He is smoking a ridiculously big cigar, staring hynotically at his BCS trophies. And a picture of Bear Bryant.**
**Hypothetically. I have no idea what Jim Slive's office looks like, and I'm also pretty sure this conversation never happened.
I don't know how to use one.
That's right, you're not qualified for anything. That's why Bobby hired you and I promoted you to be my secretary. WOO PIG SOOEY!
That's why I love the SEC, sir. Mr. Slive, could I have the afternoon off?
Sure, I don't see why not. Why do you want the afternoon off?
I wanna go ride Bobby's hog.
No problem. Still can't believe he got shitcanned over that. Hello?
darth vader music plays
Mike, Jim Delany, Big 10 to make 14. Maybe 16. Possibly 20. Might not stop until I'm at 30.
Hi Jim, how you doing? Laughs...nice season you've had there in the MAC, is it?
I'm sorry Mike but I'm having a hard time hearing you over the money I'm making with the Big Ten Network. Could be your connection, too. You guys still using the telegraph down there, or did General Sherman burn those, too?
Connection is fine here, Jim. I'm surprised there are any operators left in that collection of rusty factories and urban blight shit heap to connect you through. And could you speak up, because you're hard to hear through all these crystal footballs.
Hey, we got one of those. What's your point?
My point is, do you dust it often? That's 10 years old now, damn near an antique. You oughta have it appraised. I bet Antiques Roadshow will roll through Chicago anytime, you might want to check it out. That thing is just a few years younger than some of Les Miles' recruits, fergodsakes.
Mike, I've been doing a lot of thinking. It's in your benefit for us to be as strong on the field as you are, and well, we know you're kicking our ass lately. See, if we get better, you get better...and richer. Better ratings mean more money for me and my network. And you'll be able to get killer ratings for your one trick pony network whenever you decide to join me in the 21st century. So, I'd like for us to start cooperating, and build a bridge to peace. Let's do a coach exchange program.
Build a bridge to peace, huh? Well, wherever you decide to build it at, I'm pretty sure we'd beat you there by about three days. SEC speed and all.
As long as you don't mind waiting, we'll build it. Wouldn't want to end up with a swingrope and tire. Big Ten engineering and all.
You hang him on me and you're bitching about JLS? Seriously? At least you got rid of John L. after one year. We had Zook damn near a decade.
Yeah, I noticed. We all noticed. Why would you do something that fuckin' dumb?
It's Illinois. They can't have nice things.
Fair point. Well, lets see. A coach exchange program, huh? You know Jim, that might be a good idea, actually. I'm already kicking your ass on the field, it will be nice to do it with the bank account, too. Any chance you give us Urban back?
Hmmmm.....let's see. Fuck and no. I want at least one of my programs to be good by the time 2020 rolls around. Could I interest you in Tim Beckman, maybe? He's a real aggressive recruiter, and he had a lot of success in the MAC.
Well, I know. But he's got BCS experience, which is more than damn near anyone else in your conference can say. And we need fellas that play big boy football down here..
//biting lower lip
I knew there was a catch. What is it?
We get first pick when we dismantle the ACC.
Okay, we'll send Bret right down. Hey, once we finish off Swofford, wanna grab a bite to eat?
Sure. You're buying though, you filthy rich bastard.
Okay, sounds good. See ya Mike.
In Jim Delany's office, the rest of the coaches of the B1G emerge from a side office and sit at Delany's conference table, made in 1916, the last year that Michigan was nationally relevant.*
//pops bottle of champagne, cork hits Beckman in the eye
//swallows his dip
I know right? Now that we have our mole in place, it's time to sit back and let that soon to be tire fire of a conference start burning down there. I haven't slung that much bullshit since I said all that nice stuff about Maryland and Rutgers.
Meanwhile, the next day back at Slive's office...
Mr. Slive, there's a Mr...Brolema...here to see you. He's kind of cute, and he asked me if I wanted to ride his hog after you were done talking. Would that be okay?
What did Bobby say?
Oh, I dumped him. He's trying to get a MAC gig. His hog isn't nearly as big as I thought it was.
Sure, why not. Show Bret in.
//pinches her ass on the way in, winks, and pops collar like a total brah
Put your fists down, Bret. Welcome to the SEC. You come very highly recommended by Jim.
I do? I mean, yeah I know I do.
//double douchebag collar pop
So tell me Bret...
Just call me brah MIKE-EE!! UP TOP!
And you can call me...
How about Al? That was a great brah frat song back in the day, know what I mean Al?
//triple douchebag collar pop, reaches into cooler for a can of Natty Light
You can call me Mr. Slive. We tolerate a lot of stuff here in the SEC, as long as you win. So how are you going to win at Arkansas?
What the fuck is an Arkansas?
//shotguns a beer, belches
What's that, lose BCS games?
Oh, no, no, no. Don't see it getting that far. I'll recruit big slow guys, get really below average recruiting classes, beat up on the weaker members of your conference, lose to the big boys pretty regularly, and hope LSU and Alabama get hammered by the NCAA. I mean, it's only a matter of time, right?
No Bret, we have elaborate payment schemes and dummy accounts that the NCAA will never find. SEC schools don't go on probation, son. So give me another plan.
//reaches into cooler, shotguns another beer, belches
God damn it....
We done here, boss? Honey boo boo out there and I got a date, and there's a Natty Light kegger at my frat house in Fayettenam tonight.
Yeah, it's totally in my contract, brosef. I get my own frat house, and all the BBQ I can eat.
But...but...what about football?
I don't know fuck all about football. You seen my time management skills? Les Miles puts in my game tape and says 'that guy's a fuckin' moron.' Hey, wanna see my Hawkeye ink?
DELANY....DELANY YOU BAAAAAAASSSSSSTAAAAAARRRRRRDDD
//shotguns Natty Light