BREAKING: Berg (finally) Loses; Halverson Wins it At The Buzzer

Coach Berg Loses On Final Play of Game

News Anchor: The streak…..is OVER. Tonight, Sickle Bell Trait — the latest incarnation of what Coach Berg considers to be “topical football name humor” — succumbed to rival Dave Halverson’s “Funny, She Doesn’t Look JuJu-ish” following a final garbage time TD by Russell Wilson with 20 seconds left in the game. We’re going live to Berg Fieldhouse for the post game press conference, already in progress…

Coach Berg is sitting at a table, dazed. He is flanked by Philadelphia Eagles QBs Nick Foles and Carson Wentz. Wentz is wearing a leather vest with a gregarious amount of red chest hair bursting at the top; Foles is intently eating an ice cream cone. A gaggle of reporters sit — arms waving in the air in the four rows in front of the table.

Berg:…I mean we thought Nick [sic] really gave us the best chance to win this weekend. We had no idea we were going to go up against Connor McGregor Fitzpatrick and have to play from behind the whole time.

Reporter 1: Coach Berg! You lost tonight for the first time in the last 16 games, dating back to last season. Coincidentally, that loss was also to Coach Halverson. Do you think Halverson is your most bitter league rival?

Berg: You do know my sister is in the league too, right? Next question.

Reporter 2: Coach Berg, you became the first two-time winner of the TBD trophy last year, but drafted with the least amount of picks of any of the teams. Do you think your team is going to struggle this year given your win-now attitude of last year?

Berg: We were 1–1 at this point last year and then went out and ran the gamut on the rest of the league. There’s no reason to think we can’t do that again. Especially now that we have Wentzy back.

(Carson Wentz immediately grabs the mic and stands up, SCREAMING into the mic at such a level, that one can actually hear him)

Wentz: I’m the daddy! I’M THE DADDY! GET READY FOR THE BEAR!

Berg: Yes, you’re the daddy indeed.

(Wentz puts a Pulp Fiction “Gimp” mask on and zips it shut and runs out of the room)

Reporter 3: Coach Berg — a credible source said your team was planning a huge celebration tonight had you beaten Coach Halverson. Care to comment?

Berg: Losing sucks. No doubt about it. I mean….

Foles: Yeah. It sucks!

(Berg stares at Foles)

Berg: That was random. Where was I? Oh yeah — We had planned a big name change, we did the same thing this time last year and we’re still going to move forward with it later in the week. These guys…my guys…deserve it. They worked hard. A lot of teams do this “Practice all week” thing but with my guys, I let them go out and party after a game. I’m not trying to grow a team of Belichicks. These are Jim Moras — and we’re going to the playoffs. Last question.

Reporter 4: Coach Berg. With the trade market sure to be heating up over the next few weeks, will your team make a move? You were pretty active last year.

Berg: We have a strategic approach to that which seems to work in years past. It was called “email an offer to every coach in the league 8–10 times until they finally traded with us just to get me to stop.” Now, this year it appears as though most of the owners have blocked my email so I’m gonna fire up the ol’ @hotmail account to see if we can make things happen. No one on the team is safe. Especially if you only ran for 56 yards *points to Derrick Henry, who is sitting in the crowd wearing a fake mustache and Waldo-esque glasses, actually, ya know what — he’s just completely dressed like Where’s Waldo?*

Derrick Henry: Who ME??!?! That’s preposterous! I couldn’t have ran for only 56 yards. I’m just a journalist here. Why do you think I have these coke bottle glasses and this big mustache?

(Nick Foles licks his ice cream and the scoop goes tumbling onto the floor. He watches it for a moment, his lower lip quivers and he immediately bursts into tears)

Berg: Ah Nick, all over my shoes. Ughhh.

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Adam Rosenberg
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Ladies and D2

Comms at Vindex. "Safety Dance" enthusiast. Mediocre DJ. Proud Doodle Dad. I write fantasy fantasy sports fiction.