Despite a busy couple of weeks, Minnesota Vikings head coach Brad Childress took some time out of his schedule to attend former Vikings and hometown hero Matt Birk’s celebrity Gridiron Challenge flag football tournament. It was a gesture of goodwill from Childress towards 2008 Vikings center, and it appeared that simply by showing up with his busy schedule that all other perceived ill-will had been swept under the rug between the two associates. Yet the flag football game that was played revealed something a bit different as Childress and Birk both played quarterback for their teams that met in the opening round …
Alright kids, gather around. I know you’re all real excite to be playing some flag football with some celebrities, or in Matt Brik’s case a fauxlebrity, but let’s get our heads out of our asses here and make sure we play tight. We have no room for any screw ups here, Johnny, and I don’t expect there to be any. We got the ball first, but before we do anything let’s make sure we hit the field prepared. Everyone, let me check your flags.
(Looks at flag attachments.)
Well God damnit, that won’t work at all. You just have them loosely hanging there. Alex, you’ve got it right. Ok, see how he’s wrapped the flag itself several times around the belt and then knotted it up by the Velcro? I want each of you to do that as well before our first play so that flat head Birk can’t cheat his way to victory … what? No, it’s not cheating if the coach does it, trust me. Ready? Ok, here’s our first play …
(Draws play in sand with stick.)
Got it? Break!
(Center hikes ball, Childress grabs it. Teenager comes barreling towards Childress. Childress side steps him and stiff arms him right to the nose, rolling the kid several yards past him. Childress throws a dagger of a pass right to Joseph breaking right towards the sidelines. The ball glances off his hands and out of bounds and Joseph toes the line. Play stops.)
Fuck! Joseph you stupid prick, how do you not catch that? It hit you right in the hands, you freaking delinquent! What do I have to do, douse this ball in Barbaro glue? Come here, you’re playing offensive line now, stone hands. I can’t have this game ride on your Williamson potential. Ok, second down, here’s the next play.
(Draws another play in sand, scowls at Joseph the entire time.)
And remember, Joseph, don’t fuck this up, or you’ll be doing individual workouts the rest of the day. Alright, let’s go. Hike!
(The ball is hiked to Childress. He fakes a handoff to Brandon, who juts right before he is blindsided by a defender who was fooled. Childress watches his left receiver break free from the safety and hits him in stride down the field for a touchdown.)
YES! Nice fake, Brandon, way to be a team player. … Brandon? Hey, wake up. Shit. Someone, get this kid some ammonia or something, but get him off my playing field! Alright, slackers, not too bad, but we have to stick this came so far up Birk’s teams ass that they don’t know what hit them. We’re on defense now, so that means no holding back. Sure, this is flag football, but that’s where we’ll surprise Birk’s team. We won’t tackle, no, that’d be too obvious. Instead, kids, lets get all molesty on them like we’re at the high school prom dry humping our dates, and while one guy is overpowering the ball carrier the others will run up and take their flags. Easy? Just think rape. Ok, here they go …
(Ball is hiked to Birk, who quickly dumps it off to a receiver in the flat. Childress runs up to the kid and bear hugs him, pelvic thrusting him to the ground while three others run up and grope for his flags. Some grab the flags. Others don’t. Purposely.)
Yeah! Suck it! Loss of three yards. Nice work gang! Alright, huddle up, huddle up. Let’s see what they do next …
(Birk takes another ball and pump fakes right, but quickly pulls the ball back in order to float a pass left. Childress falls for the pump fake and feels his heart rate spike as he grinds to a halt, but watches as Alex leaps in front of the ball and knocks down the pass.)
YES! Fuck yeah! You better bring that shit harder Birk, or don’t bring it at all! This is our house! Stop with this pussy pump fake shit. WOO! LET’s DO THIS!!
(The game goes on, back and forth, until the final seconds are ticking down. Childress’ team currently holds a 28-14 lead with five seconds on the clock and an obligatory time out having been called by Birk’s team. Childress gathers his exhausted players. Except Joseph. By this time, Joseph has been immobilized in a neck brace on the sidelines.)
Ok, we almost got them right where we want them. We just have to push this ball straight up the gut and score one more touchdown.
Brandon: But I’m getting tired coach. I think I see black spots and furry beasts eating unicorns. Can’t we just take a knee?
… What? Who the fuck are you? Get in there you little cry baby bitch. You just nominated yourself for running it up the gut. I know, I know … Birk is staring at us right now like a bull in heat, but forget it. Alex is going to bull rush his knees and see if we can knock him on his ass, and then I just want you to dive in with five seconds left, ok? … I SAID OK??
Brandon: Ok, ok …
Alright let’s do this. BREAK!
(Crowded against the line, all of the kids are exhausted, Alex hikes the ball to Childress who fakes a toss to the corner. Some of the younger kids bite, but many crowd the line. Childress hands the ball to Brandon and sees him looking to burrow his head into the pile. Instead, he lifts the kid up and throws him over the top of the pile. Birk sees the launch and rises with anger to meet Brandon midair. Just as Brandon flies over the top, Birk spears him with his two fists right in the sternum, off centered just a bit to start a slow rotation mid air. Brandon blacks out but has a death grip on the ball. As he rotates slowly time stops for Childress and he watches as the tip of the ball noses over the line while the clock ticks zero, securing a 35-14 win.)
YES! SUCK IT BIRK, YOU CONTENSIOUS SHIT FACED BABOON! My team whooped your team’s ass! Enjoy your daily homicides in Baltimore, you pretty boyed bitch! VIKINGS FO’ EVA! FUCK YEAH!
(Birk fumes and stares at Childress. Slowly walks off field. Childress offers a smug, knowing “fuck you” stare.)
Brandon, get up, your twitching is ridiculous.
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