Ok. This is what I have so far. I hate the ending. Give me something new.
Damn Scarbinsky, is this the best you can do?
Kevin Scarbinsky, sports columnist for the Birmingham News, had a problem. His editor had chewed him out on Monday and he had a column due on Tuesday. His original column idea had been poop canned because of the butt chewing his editor had delivered and now he was facing a deadline. The cursor on his computer screen blinked mockingly at him as he brainstormed for ideas.
As he racked his brain, the words of his editor's harsh attack reverberated in his head:
Damn it Scarbinsky. You have got to get your head out of your ass. For three solid weeks now you've been painting unicorn and roses portraits of Auburn and the Tigers' head coach Gene Chizik. I don't know if you're aware of this, but many of our biggest advertisers are Alabama supporters. They are sick and tired of reading Auburn this, Auburn that. Need I remind you that Alabama won the 2009 national championship? That Alabama had the 2009 Heisman Trophy winner? That celebration was supposed to last longer than a year. It was supposed to be the coronation of a returning emperor, not just a one year fluke. It really aggravates some of our best advertisers that this upstart one-year wonder down on the Plains is horning in on all their glory.
You’ve gushed so much Auburn love lately that we have advertisers questioning your loyalty to the Tide. Our newspaper is being criticized as being an Auburn shill. Dammit, Scarbo, we simply cannot tolerate that. I suggest you get your damn pendulum swinging back in the opposite direction or there will be some axes swinging around here. You get the message, Scaubie?
Okay, okay this should be easy Scarbinsky thought. He considered going down the well-traveled Cam Newton path but realized that at this point there was nothing to gain by piling on a horse that had been dead really for months. Nothing new to say there that hadn’t already been fabricated elsewhere.
No, he needed something on the face of the program. He needed a way to attack Chizik.
Was it Chizik who was captured on camera at least once a game using the mother of all blasphemies and who routinely prefaced another obscenity with a strategically placed mother? No, that was Alabama coach Nick Saban.
Dammit! Scarbinsky thought.
Was it Chizik who compared the loss of a ball game to the 9-11 terrorist attacks and Pearl Harbor? No, that was Saban again. Dammit!
Was it Chizik who had been captured on camera throwing sideline tantrums and trashing his headset? No, again it was Saban. Damn!
Was it Chizik who had peppered press conferences and radio shows with vulgarities describing the result of bodily processes? Sh……ut your mouth, dammit. Saban again!
Was it Chizik who had assailed a backup quarterback in an eyes-bulging, mouth-foaming frenzy and then spanked the young man? Of course not, dammit! Saban yet again.
Scarbinsky stared at the mocking, blinking cursor. He could hear the clock ticking toward his deadline.
*tick, blink, tick, blink, tick, blink*
In frustration Scarbinsky leaped from his chair and started kicking his garbage can across his cubicle.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!†Scarbinsky punctuated each kick.
“What am I supposed to do with this? Chizk’s dad was a war hero. His leadership this season was nothing short of amazing. He quieted his critics by working hard and proving himself. He didn’t ask for respect, he went out and earned it. He navigated a storm of controversy with confidence and character. He won every major coaching award out there. Against all odds he kept his staff together. He prays with his team. He puts God and family above all else. The guy is a freaking rock. He’s Mount Rushmore. What am I supposed to do with that? “
The garbage can took another round of abuse.
“Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Da…hmmm.â€
Scarbinsky froze in mid kick. Leaving the battered garbage can behind he raced back to his computer and queued up the video of Auburn’s championship celebration. He scrolled forward to Chizik’s remarks and hit play.
Toward the end, there it was. The chink in the armor. Did the Auburn coach really just say the word “damn?†He did, he did! Gene Chizik said War Damn Eagle.
Uhhhh-ohhhhh, Scarbinsky smiled to himself. I got you now, potty mouth.
As if possessed his fingers flew over the keyboard. He’d blast Chizik for his gross profanity and lump him in with other obscenity spewing coaches. Rex Ryan! John Calipari! Saban! Oh, wait. Better back that one out of there.
Chizik’s trashy talk gave Scarbinsky the moral high ground to pontificate and decry the declining standards of society.
Who cares that Auburn has used the phrase War Damn Eagle for years, that it’s a part of one of the school’s most hallowed cheers and has been for decades? This was clearly a case of a coach unleashing his profane dragons on an unsuspecting public. Hell, Chizik was just a half step away from becoming Scarface. Or Lil’ Wayne. Where was that Orbit gum chick when you needed her?
Chizik’s boorishness opened the door to condemning the reverse taunting engineered by Auburn fans when they threw Alabama’s classless rammer jammer cheer back in the Tide fan’s faces. Who cares that Bama fans bray that cheer even after a three-point win over Kentucky or a two-point, two blocked kick over Tennessee? Just beat the hell out of you indeed! This wasn’t about Alabama’s affrontery, no, this was about those vulgar, crude Auburn fans and their cussing coach.
At least that’s the way Scarbinsky was sure the Alabama backers and advertisers in his newspaper’s sphere would read it.
Damn Chizik! Damn Auburn! Damn this accursed slide into crudity! Damn those Tiger barbarians at the gate!
Scarbinsky finished off his piece with what he felt sure was a winning, clever quip. With a relieved sigh, he submitted his column.
He’d done it. He’d beaten the deadline and found a way to throw a little mud on Chizik. The advertisers would be happy. The wacky bama fringe fanbase could now point out the speck in another’s eye while ignoring the 490-pound telephone pole jutting out of their own.
As he returned to his desk, Scarbinsky considered the piece he’d just signed his name to. The depths to which he’d stooped turned his stomach. He imagined the hooting laughter that would greet his latest missive. He wondered how the lofty journalistic career he’d long envisioned had devolved into writing a ridiculously weak smear piece on a stand-up guy for using a word that had probably been uttered by Barney the Dinosaur at least once.
The cursor winked at him, waiting for his next great piece. A tear came to Scarbinsky’s eye as he considered what he could possibly do in the wake of this last piece of fluff to salvage his reputation.
Teeth gritted, he began to type:
Washing your hands. As every school child knows, cleanliness is the first step to healthiness. Why then did Troy State head coach Larry Blakeney exit the restroom at Ryans in Montgomery without so much as a swipe at his mitts?
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