So you want to be an NCAA coach? Forget all that crap about studying hard, identifying with your players and running a clean program. All that’s so five years ago. This is 2003. Wake up.
Being a head coach is the bomb. You’ll live the life of luxury with beautiful women flaunting it at you everywhere you go. You’ll visit places where Natty Light flows like wine, college coeds are your new best friends and the strip club is your home away from home. If you play your cards right, literally, this entire world will be at your fingertips.
Your top goal in this profession is the long-term contract with the big-name school. This is your ticket to the good life all your colleagues are living. You may have to bounce around from one no-name university to the next, but all you need is that one 25-win basketball season (or 11-1 campaign and a fat BCS bid in football). Forget the legion of loyal fans you’ll disappoint along the way.
But remember, the job comes with stress. You’ll especially get it from the media, who are looking for that one chance to bust you in hopes of getting that elusive Pulitzer Prize that will fulfill their drab, wretched careers. Fear not, though, future coaches of America! If you follow these rules (Don’t worry, this is one of the rare times you’ll ever have to do this unspeakable task), you can escape the public ire and ensure your legacy as one of the greatest minds in the game.
The first thing you’ve got to do is memorize all the NCAA rules. The manual might be 18,000 pages long and many details on infractions are vague and impossible to interpret, so start boning up now. Take a trip to Indianapolis and visit the NCAA headquarters. Schmooze with President Myles Brand, the compliance officers (you’ll be seeing them again) and even the janitors. They hear all.
Don’t hold yourself back. The sky’s the limit as to how much money you can make, how many top recruits you can lure to whatever school you’re currently at before you jump ship for another gig, or how big the after party can be after a 10-point loss to your in-state rival. Don’t be afraid to use all your creative juices or you’ll never get ahead.
Surround yourself with smart assistants. These are your right-hand men, who will teach that “basketball studies” class your star recruit needs to “take” so he can get an “A”, remain eligible and lead your team to March Madness. They do most of the behind-the-scenes work while you take all the glory for winning.
If things do go south on you, you’ll need someone by your side who’s going to stick through the tough times with you, a loyal “yes” man who will go to the ends of the earth for you. Someone who, when the integrity of the program and your name depend on it, will take all the heat from that unfortunate grade-tampering scandal you knew nothing about. Passing the buck is part of the job; get used to it.
Public relations personnel are your friends. If anyone on earth can spin the truth – such as how half the players on your team are addicted to drugs and the other half only are here because boosters bought them a Cadillac – these people can do it.
Watch out for tape recorders. The ones reporters jam into your face after games are easy to spot, but watch out for the rogue-concealed one in some anti-fan’s pocket.
Stick to your lie. This cannot be stressed enough. Even if you had a little too much to drink at the club and things with Miss Alabama got out of hand, don’t ever give in. You’ll look like a fool. Unless it’s all on tape. Then you’re screwed.