Don Bauder 5:30 p.m., July 27
Exeunt Turner, stage left
An excerpt from The Tragedy of Turner, now playing in San Diego
Turner lifts the helmet of QB Philip Rivers and considers it.
Alas, poor Philip! I coached him, Horatio: a fellow of
infinite grins, of most excellent passes: he hath led me
to victory a thousand times; and now, how abhorred
in my imagination it is! My headset sparks at it. Here flung
those bombs that I called for I know not how oft. Where
be your wins now? Your touchdowns? Your runs? Your
many interceptions, that were wont to set Qualcomm on
a roar? Not one now, to toot your own winning? Quite
ball-dropping? Now get you to the Spanos boardroom, and tell
him, let him hire Belichek, San Diego will never win;
make him smile at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
What's that, ex-coach?
Dost thou think Montana looked o' this fashion late-career?
And stank so? pah! Puts down the helmet.
E'en so, ex-coach.
To what poor rankings we may descend, Horatio! Why may not fantasy football trace the champion’s rings of Montana, till it find them for sale on eBay?