A. Coach Xongo. Won’t eat wheat bread because it’s too spicy; Won’t use Phillips-head screwdrivers because they are “crazy.” Xongo sleeps in a ditch outside the locker room to show his players that he’s “down to earth.” Is secretly lactose-intolerant but won’t admit it because it’d be a distraction to the program.

B. Coach Tracy Rocker. Clearly realizing he did not read the email. Considering his role in such a collection of obvious galoots without a dime of refinement, appreciation for the finer things in life—the crisp, salty pop of fresh caviar on the tongue, the sound of the snow crunching beneath your feet on a midwinter pheasant hunt as you wait for the hounds to flush the birds from their snowy beds. Puccini! Santorini in high season! What would these troglodytes know, if they could not appreciate these things? Making a private wager with himself that he will have a new position next year, perhaps with a slightly more cultured crew who could accept, if not appreciate, the minor indulgences a man of culture must have to live. Thinking about the “haters”, who must despite him for being so good at his job, and yet so unconcerned with the possibility of failure, and also for having such a luscious head of hair. Wondering if there are non-barbarous lunch options about.

C. Coach Klurt. Missed birth of third child. Ground film of it and “liked the effort but saw a few things we need to clean up in practice.” Deliberately forgot how to read a clock so he could honestly tell someone “The time is now and that’s all I need to know.”

D. Coach Ggreg. Not technically an employee. Showed up one day and clapped a lot. No one’s had the spine to admit they don’t know him, including the head coach. Tells those who ask that the extra “G” is for “juice”.

E. Coach Rungit. Speaks only in single-syllable verbs and the word “yes”. Doesn’t use the word “no” because he doesn’t believe in negativity. Took the rearview mirrors off his car because he doesn’t look back. Has a suspended license in four states.

F. Coach Magnump. Has no fingerprints. Addresses every player and recruit by “last name, first name, height, weight, 40 time.” Spends five hours in a utility closet at the facility motionless and staring into a dark corner. Reacts to players bleeding from minor cuts and scrapes by poking at the wound and muttering “fascinating.” Lists hobbies as “discovering customs of people and helping advance the ideals of the Tennessee football program.” Considered most relatable, human member of staff by players.

G. Coach Jeremy Pruitt. Did not know what asparagus is late into adulthood. Current head coach of the Tennessee Volunteers.