There is a time and place for everything. This morning, a good friend who lives in New Jersey forwarded me an application to be the assistant head coach at Rutgers University. Strange that someone from New Jersey sent it to me considering the Rutger is at the heart of New York City. Rutgers recently lost its offensive coordinator Drew Mehringer to Texas, and the school is looking for a replacement.
WELL LOOK NO FURTHER! We’re going all the way to the Garden State!
After my unsuccessful bid to be the head coach of Wisconsin, I figure being the offensive coordinator for the Rutger football team should be an easier job to get. After all, they had the worst offense in the Big Ten and were shut out on four separate occasions. It’s Rutger. You know, the salt of the earth? The school that loses money on athletics every year?
Okay, let’s go looking for the online portal. Huh, this is confusing. What does the tutorial page look like?
Oh cool, it’s a picture of a garbage fire with the Rutgers logo on it because the page is under construction. You can’t make this stuff up folks. That tutorial page was no help, but I decided to write a cover letter and resumé anyway.
Here is what I came up with:
I think this is going to go well!
FULL TEXT OF THE LETTER IN CASE YOU CAN’T READ IT:
Dear Mr. Head Coach of the Rutger.
Hallowed be thy name. I apply for this job not out of spite or pity, but from a feeling that goes beyond spite and pity and enters the Theatre of the Absurd. For my entire life, I have observed Rutger from afar, breathing it, studying it, and failing to understand it. I have written articles for insidenu.com, an esteemed college football site, about the Rutger football boys. As a sportswriter at Northwestern, I know the B1Ggest conference in the land very well.
I have studied the tape of the Rutger’s numerous losses. I have watched the Scarlet Knights fall to every Big Ten opponent. I have seen Chris Laviano and Giovanni Rescigno fight valiantly, only to collapse under the pressure. I understand your offense has been bad. Scoring zero points four times in a season is not good. Losing the final nine games of the season is not good.
Frankly, you need an offensive coordinator who can shake things up. I have no football coaching experience and I ran cross-country in high school. I am 140 pounds and would be athletically destroyed by most of your players. But I have sat on my couch to watch football for nearly 75 percent of my life, and because I write about the sport on a daily basis in the fall, I believe I am totally qualified to become your offensive coordinator. I mean, who could do a worse job than the last guy? It’s also a chance to hire a Korean-American offensive coordinator and increase diversity.
I eagerly await your reply and for you to ignore this beneath a stack of actually qualified applicants. But just know that, of all the people who apply, I truly want to make Rutger great again.
They sent me an email already: