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Hard Knocks: Texas Tech Edition

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No, Texas Tech isn't getting Hard Knocks. But this is what it would look like if we did, thanks to the new S&C coach.

Inspired by this:

SCENE: TEXAS TECH LOCKER ROOM

Coach Whitt walks in furiously

Players immediately snap to attention and salute, one player has his shirt on backwards

Coach Whitt bounds up to player

WHITT: YOU IMBECILE! DON'T YOU SEE YOUR SHIRT IS ON BACKWARDS?!

PLAYER ONE: I...I...I'm s-sorry coach, I didn't see.

WHITT: TAKE 20 LAPS AROUND CAMPUS

PLAYER ONE whimpers and scurries off

WHITT: (to PLAYER ONE): THAT'S FOR TIME, BUTTMUNCH! ANYTHING LESS THAN 12 HOURS AND YOU'RE CUT (to: ALL) What you children don't understand is how weak you are. How pathetically childish you are in your attempts to play the game of football. I will make you stronger. Right now, you all have little wussy balls. After my training, your little wussy balls might have some hair on them, or grow into little wussy prepubescent balls. IT'S TIME FOR TRAINING.

SCENE: CROSSFIT BOX RETROFITTED WITH NOTHING BUT SQUAT RACKS, DUMBELLS, AND BLOCKING SLEDS

WHITT: HERE ARE MY RULES GENTLEMEN: YOU MISS A REP, YOU RUN A MILE. YOU SCREW UP A LIFT, YOU RUN A MILE. YOU DON'T GIVE BEST EFFORT, AND THERE WILL BE NO "JOHN BROWN HINDPART"-KICKING. YOU'RE JUST CUT.

ALL PLAYERS begin doing some exercise that looks like a combination of Navy Seals BUDS and Ishmaeli Assassin training

PLAYER THREE crumbles to the ground after 30 minutes

PLAYER THREE: I can't do this coach, the weight is too much!

COACH WHITT lines up like he's kicking a field goal, kicks PLAYER THREE into the stratosphere. He wipes the blood off his shoe

COACH WHITT: ANYONE ELSE FEEL LIKE THE WEIGHT IS TOO MUCH?

ALL PLAYERS resume workout furiously

PLAYER SIX: c-c-coach? I have to go to c-c-c-class

COACH WHITT: OH SO YOU ONE OF THEM LEARNIN' BOYS HUH? HOW ABOUT YOU LEARN HOW FAR YOU CAN RUN BEFORE YOU COLLAPSE OF HEAT EXHAUSTION! GO JOIN YOUR BUDDY, 20 LAPS AROUND CAMPUS!

PLAYER SIX begrudgingly jogs out of weight room

COACH WHITT: TASTE MY PAIN BITCH

COACH WHITT takes bite out of 25 lbs plate, washes it down with motor oil

COACH WHITT: (under breath) I love the smell of sweat and fear in the morning

SCENE: END OF SPRING BALL, COACH KINGSBURY'S OFFICE

ALL PLAYERS, COACH WHITT attempt to file into Kingsbury's office. They are so ripped that they have to turn sideways to get through the door

COACH KINGSBURY: what the hell

COACH WHITT: They're all primed for killin', Kliff. Send these boys out on defense and see what they can do

PLAYER ONE punches PLAYER FOUR, knocking him out cold. PLAYER ONE begins to urinate on PLAYER FOUR

COACH WHITT: I think we've got our starting MLB, Coach

COACH KINGSBURY looks around with admiration and a slight twinge of fear

COACH KINGSBURY: That'll do, Whitt. That'll do.

SCENE: FIRST PRESEASON GAME, SIDELINE

COACH KINGSBURY: Whitt, I'm going to have to let you go. The SFA QB's head is hanging on by a couple of veins, they want to call the game at half. They say it's too dangerous with the way you trained our players. Also our entire defense is foaming at the mouth. What the hell did you give them?

COACH WHITT: A little bit of rabies mixed with Red Bull and Alligator's blood.

COACH KINGSBURY: yeah you're done

END