The Kragthorpe Diaries IV

Note #1: This is Steve Kragthorpe’s actual diary. We can’t control the fact that he has a sailor’s mouth and is misogynistic towards women. We can only love him for it.

Note #2: Previous, even less polished editions of The Kragthorpe Diaries can be found here, here, and here.

Dear Diary,

Fuck.

The Kragthorpe Diaries III

Note #1: This is Steve Kragthorpe’s actual diary. We can’t control the fact that he has a sailor’s mouth and is misogynistic towards women. We can only love him for it.

Note #2: Previous, even less polished editions of The Kragthorpe Diaries can be found here and here.

Woah, woah, WOAH! Back the fuck up, holmes.

They tell me I’ve taken a top 10 program and made them irrelevant in 9 months. How the hell did that happen? I must’ve blacked out for about, say, the entire 2007 season. That’s what I get for eating nothing but ‘shrooms and Fruity Pebbles for 4 months.

Quote Of The Day

Don’t beat me up but The Krag gets credit for the quote of the day and new stat of the year from this story in The Courier-Journal.

While talking about Slaton and White The Krag came up with this little nugget:

With these guys, they ought to talk about yards after juke.

The Kragthorpe Diaries II

Shit.

This is bad. This is really, really bad. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? The Krag has certainly gotten himself into quite the fuckin’ pickle.

Think Krag, think. Brainstorm. OK, we’re brainstorming. Saying anything that comes to my mind.

Fuck, this is hard. Wait, maybe I’ll burn the stadium down. Hell yeah, if there’s no stadium, there’s no games. And if there’s no games, there’s no losses. This can’t fail. Best. Idea. Ever.

Wait, if I burn the stadium down, they’ll probably want to arrest me for arson. Damn, there’s always a catch. Stupid felonies always fucking things up. And there’s no way The Krag is going to prison. I hear there are homosexuals in prison. Yuck. I’ll be damned if I drop the soap and my whole perspective on life changes. No way. Krag loves the ladies, not men.

OK, keep thinking.

Think.

Think.

Shit, still thinking about prison showers. Damn.

Think.

Maybe I’ll just go back to Tulsa. Yeah…I see coaches doing that all the time time. Dan Dakich went from Bowling Green to WVU back to Bowling Green. Rick Majerus did the same thing with a buffet table and USC. Why can’t I do it? The Krag should be able to have second thoughts.

But those guys never actually coached a game at their new schools. Shit, I didn’t even think about that. I’ve coached like 3 games at Louisville. You think they’ll let me out of my contract? Eh, probably not.

What if I just don’t show up for games. I could have my wife write a note. Like I’m sick. That might work. Probably only for one game, though. After that I’d probably have to have cancer or the gout or Lou Gehrig’s disease or something. Too risky. I want people to just think I’m dead, not actually be dead.

Well, I guess I could always just end it. I wonder how high that bridge over the Ohio is? It better be pretty high, I don’t want to just break both my legs. They’d probably make me keep coaching if that happened.

Oh well, who cares. Fuck them, I’m still getting paid. I’m their problem.

(Editor’s Note: the first installment of The Kragthorpe Diaries can be found here.)

Fire Steve Kragthorpe

When you Google “Fire Steve Kragthorpe”, WBGV is the 6th 2nd-highest ranking site. I don’t know why, but this really excites me.

Now he’s still pretty new, but The Krag is well on his way to earning “Save Dave” status. I am wet with anticipation.

The Kragthorpe Diaries I

Oh. Shit.

I am so completely fucked. Utterly, totally, didn’t have the courtesy of a reach-around fucked.

It all looked so rosy. Top 10 program. Orange Bowl champion. How could I screw this up? I couldn’t. No way. I single-handedly turned Tulsa around. Tulsa for fuck’s sake. You think anyone wants to go to Tulsa? Shit no. But there I was, winning games and making Steve Kragthorpe a household name.

Everybody wanted a piece of The Krag. Programs wanted me. Schools across the country were throwing money at me. Taking me to expensive restaurants. Showering me with gifts. Setting me up with hot ass ladies. Sure I’m married, but not when I’m on the road. On the road, The Krag has to get him some split-tail, you know what I’m saying? As long as that shit stays on the DL, The Krag is all good.

Man, was I having a good time. Especially in Louisville. Remember this story? You should’ve seen the red-carpet they rolled out for me. A box at Churchill. Dinner at the Penndennis Club. That shit was off the hook. I didn’t see a minority the entire day. That’s how it was in Montana and that’s just how The Krag likes it.

That was 9 months ago. Today? It’s like someone took a dump on my chest. What the fuck? I won a Liberty Bowl, I don’t deserve this shit.

How the hell did we lose to Kentucky? Good lord, Kentucky. Who’s even their head coach? Is it Saul Smith? I don’t have a clue.

I have no idea how it went wrong, either. What’d you say? We need to play defense? Fuck that. Have you seen our offense? It’s sick. It’s like the 2000 Rams in Madden. I used to play in my office on my old Dreamcast. I owned that game. Brian Brohm is Kurt Warner, Anthony Allen is Marshall Faulk, Mario Urrutia is Torry Holt, Harry Douglas is Isaac Bruce, and some other white dude on our team is Ricky Proehl. Man, wasn’t Ricky Proehl sick?

I just don’t get it. With this offense, who would’ve thought we needed to play defense. Not me. And I’m the best coach in America. If I didn’t see it coming, no one could. Not even Knute fucking Rockne himself. And he was half the coach I am. Plus he’s dead, so he doesn’t know shit.

And don’t even get me started on Syracuse. Luckily I swallowed some Oxycontin at halftime so that game was a fucking blur.

All this shit is giving The Krag a headache. All I wanted to do was win a national championship. It shouldn’t be this hard. It wasn’t this hard when I was taking Tulsa to the Humanitarian Bowl. I mean, pulling decent ass in Boise was hard, but the football part was still easy.

This fucking blows. What the hell am I going to do? Ah, fuck it, I’m going down to the Magic Dragon for a rub and tug. Gotta get my mind off this shit.