A transcript of my recent press conference
First of all, I'd like to thank you all for coming today.
As you all know, Larry Eustachy, the head coach of Iowa State's men's basketball team, was recently forced to resign because he was photographed at a college fraternity party at 3:00 in the morning, drinking with college students and hugging co-eds.
Then Mike Price, the head coach of Alabama's football team, was forced out after reports surfaced he spent hundreds of dollars at a strip club and then later, one of the strippers ordered $1,000 worth of food and charged it to his hotel room.
Then, Massapequa (N.Y.) High School baseball coach Mark Tselentis was fired after it was revealed that during a trip to Florida, four of his players hired a stripper while two of his assistant coaches drank alcohol in front of the players and drove them around. This was all happening while Tselentis was off gambling.
Now sadly, there's me.
Let me begin by saying, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I don't know how my life ever got to this point.
I suppose I should have confronted the demons in my closet before I accepted my job as head coach of the "Guzzling Guzzled Guzzlers" in the Yahoo Free Fantasy Baseball League #41571. But in hindsight, I guess part of my problem has been my inability to use proper judgement and accept the fact that there are deep, personal problems that need to be dealt with.
The truth is, until now I've never been forced to confront my problems. But since so many recent events in my life have come forth in public, I'm left with the nothing more than the embarrassment of having to look at myself in the mirror every morning and wonder what's become of my life.
And what a sad, sad life it is.
The sexual deviance. The drinking. The untold criminal activities. The insensitivity to others. I can only say that as many of these stories have been made public, there is still so much that remains untold. And I think it's best it stays that way.
My attorney thinks the same thing.
I stand here before you today not to make excuses for my behavior, but to hopefully help you all understand that I now recognize my problems and am taking corrective measures to ensure things like this will never happen again.
Obviously, I'm left with no choice but to resign from my position. I hope to someday return to coaching. I would also like to say that I wish my players well. I never meant them any harm.
A-Rod, Nomar, Curt. I'm sorry.
I'm also fully confident they'll do well throughout the rest of the season in capable hands of my assistant coach, BigMommaPump, who I'm sure will steer them down the straight and narrow. I see no reason why they can't contend for the league championship and wrestle the crown away from the AssKickerz, whose manager, email@example.com, might not be the nicest man in the world, but I respect his ability to coach a fantasy team in Yahoo Free Fantasy Baseball league #41571.
As I contemplate the myriad of mistakes on my part, I can see how so many of the choices I've made indicated a silent cry for help. How they were mere guises for a lost soul begging for attention. And classic examples of a human spirit fraught with pain.
The reason I couldn't see these things before was because I didn't want to see them. Now, thanks to therapy, I'm able to accept and understand my problems and hopefully, become a better, more fruitful human being. My therapist says speaking out today is a major step to rectifying my life.
She also says that if you feel that you have emotional problems, call her reception desk between the hours of 8:30-4:00, Monday through Friday to schedule an appointment.
Also, I hope to coach again someday.
While I realize I can't correct my errors, if you all don't mind, I'd like to spend a few moments apologizing for each and everyone one of them. At least the ones you know about.
My therapist says that other than paying my bills on time, it's the least I can do.
*As you probably know, after I checked my team's statistics on Yahoo following last Thursday's games, I said to my computer screen, "Gosh, I wish you fellas were here. You all did so well tonight, we could go out and get something to eat together."
And while you might think it's odd that I was talking to my computer screen, you need to understand that a manager's job isn't 9-5. It's 24/7.
"Maybe we could go to Hooters?" I said to the computer. "We can get ribs and plenty of racks too, if you boys catch my drift."
And while I was the only one in the room, we all had a hearty laugh at the expense of the nice young girls who work at Hooters who, through no fault of their own, happen to be blessed with ample bosoms.
Unless they had breast implants. In which case, it was through the fault of their own.
Additionally, I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that if we all were there, we probably would've spent a lot of time watching the waitresses walk away, which is clearly inappropriate for a leader of men.
For that, I am sorry.
However, I would like to say the one thing I would never apologize for is my belief that if our Hooters waitress had a horrific face but a tremendous body, I think I would've personally tried to boost her morale and self-esteem by commenting on her ass.
*As I'm sure you've all read, when we lost 10-0 yesterday to the Wazzupwazzups, I looked at my team on the computer screen and said, "Boys, this is not about winning and losing. It's about doing our best." I know that if Omar Vizquel really had heard me, he would've said, "Jesus Christ, that's a load of crap Coach, and you know it." And even though I did know it, I would've continued to disagree. Then, I probably would've taken a bat and broken his left kneecap because I had such pent up fury raging inside my body.
Of course, while this would have been regretful in one way, it also wouldn't have been that bad because my reserve shortstop is Rafael Furcal, who's having a terrific season.
I mean, he was my reserve shortstop. Now I have no team. And no future.
For that, I am sorry.
I hope to one day return to coaching.
*As it's now been reported, yes, it's true that after we won a game 12-2 over the Titty Titty Bangbangs on April 6th, I waited until my computer was off and my players couldn't see me anymore. Then I drove to a nearby small community college where I found an on-campus party for second-year automotive tech students.
I brought a six-pack with me and even though I had two or three beers on the way, it didn't really matter because it was a college party and there always is plenty of beer at college parties. Even at nearby small community college parties.
At first, many of the students were happy to see me there. I'm fairly certain they recognized me from coaching. Because as you all know, the circle of men who are Yahoo Free Fantasy Baseball coaches is a small circle, indeed.
After a short while at the party, I came to realize there aren't a whole lot of women in the automotive tech program at the nearby small community college. But the three that are get a great deal of attention. Even more after several alcoholic beverages.
I immediately sidled up to a co-ed who I found out later was named Margie. I gave her a big hug in part to let her know I was excited to be at the party and in part because, well, even a big-time coach can use a hug now and then.
As I found out later, she didn't mind my hug, but she certainly felt as if my tongue in her ear had gone too far.
She said to me, "Get away from me you freaky old man freak. You're, like, old enough to be my father."
Without thinking, I said, "Well, has daddy's little girl been a bad little girl?"
I can't begin to apologize enough for my behavior. It was inexcusable. I should've never placed my tongue in her ear. Clearly, I should have stopped at her neck.
For that, I am sorry.
*Two Sunday's ago, after a hard fought victory over the Pootietangerines, I felt really good about the moves I had made that day, particularly sitting Barry Bonds as my DH and playing Shawn Green. So I took my son and his friends to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate. While I spent nearly 20 bucks trying to win tickets on Whack-A-Mole, my unsupervised son and his friends were throwing food at Chucky, harassing the waitress and calling her Chucky's Bitch.
When I was later informed of this, all I said was, "Whatever. I lost two tokens in this machine."
In truth, I hadn't lost any tokens in the machine and was clearly trying to cheat the company out of its hard-earned profits in the hopes of winning enough tickets to get the new eraser I so desired.
For lying, I am sorry.
For my son's misguided efforts, I am sorry.
For not giving my son the eraser, I'm not sorry. Because the fact is, I needed a new eraser.
To the players and supporters of my team, I apologize for causing such shame and embarrassment. Rest assured, the humiliation and suffering I now endure will remain with me for a long, long time.
Crime Dog, Pudge, Junior, I am sorry.
As for my son, who keeps asking, "Daddy, how's your team doing?", I'm sorry. Daddy let you down, son. Hopefully when you're old enough to drink, we'll knock down a few at a sleazy downtown strip club and laugh this off.
Or I could just go on my own and tell you about it later.
To my wife, her support throughout this ordeal has been encouraging and remarkable. To stand behind me as I've mocked the family name is a testament to her will and fortitude. And while I'm not sure what fortitude is, this is something my therapist keeps referencing. And at $115 an hour, I'm working hard to make this something I'm more focused on.
To my therapist, words cannot begin to express how much you're helping me turn things around. I only wish I had known you at an earlier point in my life. Like when you were young and good-looking. Perhaps things would've worked out differently for me.
Instead, now I sit, alone. A man without a team.
I hope to one day coach again.
And so, while so many things have transpired, the time has now come to stop looking back and instead, look to the future.
I am proud to say I'm now in my third day as an alcohol-free member of society. I stand before you and say that I am on the road to full recovery. I feel fresh and invigorated. I feel alive. I feel like a full-spirited embodiment of the human experience.
I feel like an ice cold Budweiser.
I hope to one day coach again.
Are there any questions?
Yes, you in the back there. The hot one in the tight skirt. What's your question, gorgeous?