The Gregg Williams bounty tapes remind me of my junior year football season. We were a miserable 0-7, and before our next game one of the assistant coaches, usually a mild-mannered man, decided to give a pregame pep talk, as we were playing his alma mater. As the minutes went on he worked himself into a frenzied rage, finally culminating in his pulling out the very jersey he had played his last game in for our opponent 20 years earlier and lit it on fire, seconds before we ran out of the locker room and onto the field.
We got crushed 49-0.
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