Imagined monologues: Bobby Hauck

Holy shit, I am such an asshole. Seriously. Like, I have to be one of the biggest dipshits in the entire state of Montana. I have singled-handedly ruined the good vibes surrounding the sport of Grizzly football. Ok, wait, that's not entirely true. I did recruit the kid who was charged with murder earlier this year, Jimmy Wilson. He should probably take like 10 percent of the blame. He is the guy, after all, who allegedly did the murdering. That's hardly on me. But in his defense, in all my preseason meetings, I never once recalling telling the team: NO MURDER. So in the end, I guess I'm the guy who screwed up there. My bad, folks. I've already written a note to self for next year with the words NO MURDER underlined like four times. Of course, now, on the eve of the Bobcat-Griz game, a bunch of my players allegedly robbed and pistol-whipped a guy in his home. What's that? They tasered him too? Crap. That's not good. I supposed I could do what I usually do: Stonewall the media, call this an internal team matter, give the middle finger to anyone who questions the way I rule my fiefdom. That might work. After all, I'm Bobby 'Effin Hauck! But that's probably only going to hold them off for a few days. I really hope UCLA doesn't read about this. I really want that job. WWND: What Would Neuheisel Do? I wish he would pick up his cell phone. Jerk is probably strumming his guitar, looking at the caller ID and ignoring me. Typical. I need a drink. Better head to The Press Box. Don't tell Dennison where I am, ok?