Stories about coaches

[Killian]

King Crimson's thread about Schnellenwhisky had me rolling:

Howard prolly pulled this one many times in Norman. I have posted the Schnelly story where my dad sees him (head coach of the then-6 time Mythical National Champion Sooners) buying a few Bud Tallboys at the 7-11 around 7:30 in the AM. Howie pulls out of the parking lot, and having failed to shut it properly....the driver's door on his Cadillac El Dorado swings open wildly in traffic and HS flails heroic-ly to pull it shut while swerving across the line marker only to right the ship and disappear over the little hill by the south frats on Chautauqua Street heading north. Boomer Sooner, Howard.

These off the record stories kill me. My favorite regarding a Notre Dame coach was Bob Davie. This was in 2001 when things were quickly spiraling out of control and it was obvious that ND was going to make a change. Bob walked into a local 7-Eleven to grab a late night snack and his eyes settled on the hot dogs, rotating in their glass enclosure. Bob went to grab one and couldn’t figure out how to get the door open. After a few minutes, he slammed his hand on the counter, turned and stormed out of the 7-Eleven saying, “I swear to God this whole town is trying to fuck me!”

[indyfrisco]

I heard a story about Billy Gillispie in Lexinton. For those who don't know, BG is a big time drunk. He was at a bar in Lexington trying to close the place down when all of a sudden the bartender tells BG he's cut off. BG gets loud and starts yelling and cussing. He asked the bartender who the hell cut him off. Bartender points at big black dude over in the corner. BG walks up to him and yells, "Who the fuck do you think you are cutting me off? I'm Billy Gillispie." Big black dude says "I'm the chief of police, and you need to call a fucking cab right now."



Good article on this idiot:

http://www.cbssports.com/columns/story/12142380

[Carson]

Mike Price and The Strippers in Pensacola is a classic.

"It's Rolling, baby!"

[King Crimson]

I've heard Barry tell this story a couple times:

Switzer used to have raucous post-game parties on Saturday nights at his house. All the assistants, wives, gf's...would come. Lot of boozing, coke you would hear about...etc. Anyway, so there's a big table of snacks in the kitchen. Chex, crackers, chips...early 80''s munchies or whatever. So, a few hours in....Barry and Scott Hill (former OU DB and assistant coach whose real role is to be Barry's "huntin' and fishin' buddy") are in the kitchen goofin' around. So, they take a bag of cat food out of the pantry and fill a big bowl with it and put it in the middle of the other snacks. Ha Ha. Wendell Mosely, the DL coach and one of maybe 2-3 brothers on the staff, comes into the kitchen and they start talking about the game earlier in the day. Wendell surveys the snacks....and, sure enough, takes a big handful of cat food...starts eating, still talking. After a few minutes of munching and conversation (Hill and Barry are trying not to laugh....nodding their heads at whatever Wendell is saying)......Wendell says, pointing toward the cat food bowl:

"These are terrible. Gawd Damn, you white boys will eat anything".