Home By Marquel It Takes a Woman

It Takes a Woman

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Color Coordinating Section correspondent, was finishing his Masters in Fishing Carp, when he read, Jen Welter Is Teaching Men, and Girls, as N.F.L.’s First Female Coach.

  • A woman.
  • Coach.
  • In the NFL.

Marquel pondered this. The middle east peace talks were more accessible to his chauvinist mind than this story, even granting that there are not any real peace talks. But there is a real female coach in the NFL. No, couldn’t be. His mind wrestled with the thought. Pinned. Escape. Pinned.  Reversal. Pinned. That’s it. A real woman coach in the NFL. He worked out a meeting.

“You realize that four guys my size couldn’t lift one of those guys one inch off the ground?” Marquel asked.
“They’re big,” she admitted.
“One of them could actually lift you off the ground. And he could actually loft you in the air for a twenty yard pass. Do you realize that?” Marquel asked.
“Yes they’re larger and stronger than life.” She said.
“So how can you coach them?”Marquel asked.
“They’re men. I teach them girl things.” She said.
“Like what?” I challenged.

“Like when you look good, you feel good and when you feel good, you play good. Excuse the grammar.” She said.
“So how do you make them look good?” I asked.
“The suits should be bleached with every wash and double fabric softener for comfort. When the two teams come out and your team looks like a magazine cover, believe me at least the first quarter is yours.” She said.
“So you do clothing.” I said.
“Don’t sell me short. When they line up after the kickoff. They know what to say. ‘Ever heard of soap?’ ‘Your momma washes you’re shit on a rock?’ ‘Dry cleaner won’t take your shit till you pay off the bill?’ It turns into a different game.” She said.
“So you do taunting, too?” I asked.
“You know it but that’s just the start. Some of those linemen have boyfriends on other teams. ‘I saw Weller with Owen on Saturday. Really going at it. You allow that shit?’ That really gets them.”
“So you make them catty,” I said.
“Catty? They’re tiger’s when they get going. It works with girls. Believe me it works with men. They’re just little girls with muscles.” She said.
“So you unbalance them.” I said
“That’s the beginning. They’re so unbalanced that, at the snap, they’re already falling down.” She said.
“Sounds effective. Surprising.” I said.
“Shouldn’t be. It’s just human nature.” She said.
“But some of it. Like the suits. In five minutes they’re filthy again,” I said.
“First of all, they’re still neater than the other side. Second, it’s not just the suits. We don’t just smear black grease on their cheeks and under their eyes. I look at each one in the face, especially their eye color, and choose something, dark of course, but that compliments their eyes. We’ve used dark purple, a kind of mauve brown, very dark tan, even a yellowish brown tint. Each one goes onto the field looking and feeling his best. That makes sense in any job.” She said.
“I’m sure you’re right. I was a bit skeptical at first.” I said.
“I could tell. You should watch this weekend.” She suggested.
“Any particular reason?” I asked her.
“Well the tactic I told you about worked better than I thought. The other linemen boyfriend was fooling around for real, got caught and they broke up. He called to thank our guy and within days they had a full blown relationship if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“So if they’re in love and okay with each other, won’t that create problems?” I asked.
“Not for us. I teach them make up sex is the best, so no holds barred during the game, and fun fun fun the rest of the weekend.” She said.
“Wow this isn’t the NFL I anticipated.” I said.
“I told you. Just big babies. It takes a woman to realize that.” She said.
We said good bye. I watched her leave. I realized she was hot.
By MARQUEL: It Takes a Woman



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