A Letter to the Future Giants Head Coach

Dear 17th Head Coach of the New York Football Giants,


You are yet to be named.  There is no telling at this point whether you are preparing for the playoffs, have been eliminated for several weeks or are even in the professional ranks.

Maybe you are Nick Saban, a former NFL flame-out and now current college demigod.  There is literally an entire state of southerners blindly loyal to you and your brand, followers that would probably start a war if you were to leave Alabama.  If you ARE Nick Saban, I am certainly worried.  You’ve dominated the college ranks thanks in part to an ability to cycle players in and out with recruiting.  When it comes to recruiting, nobody is better than you.  The NFL is a different animal.  In your case, you wouldn’t even be doing the league equivalent of recruiting for my Giants, a man by the name of Incompetent Dickhead Jerry Reese will be.  He hasn’t exactly proven himself in that department.  Since you won’t be able to fully have your way in the personnel department, I doubt the potential of your tenure.


Perhaps you are an unproven but hungry offensive coordinator.  Maybe you are Adam Gase, who proved that his perceived know-how wasn’t a result of Peyton Manning being his QB when he taught bone-headed interception prone Jay Cutler to take care of the football.  The problem is I happen to like the direction my offense is going in.  I don’t need you coming in to blow it all up.  Which leads me to option two, current Giants OC Ben McAdoo.  I’ve become quite fond of you and your hyper-dad bod .  The goatee is extraordinary and you’ve been around my man crush Aaron Rodgers; in theory you are the perfect candidate.  However, you’re inexperienced, having only two seasons as a coordinator under your belt.  That worries me, but I can’t figure out if I’m more worried about giving you a shot or letting you walk, potentially to the worst place in the league, Philadelphia.

Maybe you have some head coaching experience, but not much success.  That would make you either Josh McDaniels or *PRAYS TO GOD THIS ISN’T THE CASE* Steve Spagnuola.  McDaniels is a Belichick guy who went to Denver as the main guy, drafted Tim Tebow in the first round and shortly thereafter returned to being a Belichick guy.  You’re touted as a bright football mind, which is always a plus.  Sadly, your record with personnel decisions is the fire to Jerry Reese’s oil, so I’m not convinced that you won’t fuck around in the draft this year and select Roberto Aguayo in the first round.  If you are Steve Spagnuola, you won’t have to worry about getting my blessing because I will have killed myself no sooner then you’re inaugurated.  Don’t be bringing you 10-28 head coaching record and 32nd ranked defense anywhere near the Head Coach’s office.  Stay the fuck in your lane.

Maybe you’re Bill Cowher or Jon Gruden.

Maybe you’re the unlikely scenario of Bill Belichick.

I don’t know who you are, but I know that you need to be one hell of a football coach.  You need to take the roster that the Keyser Soze of the Giants front office gives you and coach the ever-loving shit out of it.  You need to finish games and you need to manage the game.  Maybe you are not the man for the job, in which case expect a letter to the 18th Head Coach of the New York Football Giants this time next year (or sooner, and please don’t make me write a letter to the interim head coach).

You do have insanely huge shoes to fill and while the expectations may not be realistic, this is New York and fans like myself have never been realistic (I confidently and incorrectly predicted 12 wins each of the last two seasons).

You will need the following to be successful:

  1.  A huge pair of Nuts.  Confident as all hell.  Not overstated though I.E. Rex Ryan, who in the end just looked like a douchebag.  Go for it on fourth every now and then between the 35-40 yard line, stop settling for 3.
  2. Be a motivator.  This team can come out FLAT sometimes. 14 days after narrowly losing to the Patriots this year, the Giants got whooped by the Redskins. They either win the important regular games by a hair or get blown the fuck out.  Learn how to get them to show up, maybe win a game by 21 and save me the anxiety attack.
  3. Thick skin.  This is New York, don’t come to town with anything less than Armadillo skin.


God speed to you.  I wish you all the best.  When I become irate by a failed decision and call for your head on a stick, don’t take it personal.







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