Coach Carroll, you're a fucking moron. I'll miss you.

Everyone has those memories that, no matter how old or senile, they can recall the exact details of the scenario. The cliche events that spark such memories are typically 9/11, Pearl Harbor and that time you sharted while taking the SAT. Pete Carroll's departure from USC, an equally harrowing event for me, will forever be commemorated by the image of John Buccigross' look of surprise when Chris Mortenson broke the rumor on Sportscenter. 'Twas a face that was all too similar to the kind that a woman makes when her man goes forcefully northward with his dick placement during intercourse without warning. I would soon feel that woman's pain.

I know why Pete Carroll left - there were several reasons working in conjunction - however I've yet to wrap my mind around it. I would argue that Pete belongs at USC more than any other coach at his respective school (Mike Leach was a close second, because a technical institution in Bumblefuck, Texas deserves a zany, sadistic genius to run the football program). Pete had a work hard-play hard mantra, just like my friend who would get blackout drunk the night before his 8 a.m. final and still pull a B. It epitomized USC's character to perfection. The personality of a city like Seattle is a bit different. In fact, Bruce Willis' next movie is a film noir about a suicidal Microsoft employee is set in that very city. "Work Hard, Die Hard" will be coming to theaters this June.

For anyone who says that Pete's decision was monetarily driven is a complete asshole. He is the King of Los Angeles with so many endorsements that the NCAA is considering making it a recruiting violation because NOBODY WORKING IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE NCAA SHOULD BE MAKING TRUCKLOADS OF MONEY EXCEPT FOR THE NCAA. Pete left because he saw the writing on the wall and knew that the actions of Joe McKnight and Reggie Bush would eventually incur ramifications. He had the balls to go for it on 4th down. I just wish they were big enough to stick around and weather the storm.

Surprisingly, I don't feel bitter about Pete's decision. Probably because he's too good of a guy and so god damn chipper all the time that the Seahawks might want to test for traces of meth in his blood as part of a pre-signing physical exam. That shit also happens to be a huge commodity in Washington.

*has epiphany*

Oh, fuck...

Unfortunately for him, my support will doubtfully translate into success. Even if he could cherry-pick recruits (which he can't, because the NFL uses a relatively diplomatic player selection system known as the draft), the appeal of playing in Seattle compared to SoCal is like choosing between fucking Brittany Murphy post-mortem or in her "8-mile" prime: one is cold, depressing and wet and the other is hot, lively and...well L.A. isn't very wet, but you get the point.

Pete's competitive nature is certainly a plus in the eyes of the Seahawks' front office, but he's too laid back. He would have played Joe McKnight in the Emerald Bowl if Garrett hadn't pulled rank and prevented him from doing so. In the NFL, the equivalent of McKnight's situation would be somewhere in the realm of grand theft auto. If Pete is okay with his star running back playing a week after jacking an Escalade from his drug-dealing hoodrat friend, Roger Goodell would rape him with a bayonet. Shit like that doesn't fly in the No Fun League.

I expect Pete to be back in the college ranks within five years, assuming that he'll make the wise choice of returning and not float around the League like an STD like - dare I say it - Herm Edwards, before finding his true calling.

I'll conclude by looking to the future of USC football, which will prosper under a legendary head coach who won't take this ideal situation for granted. Mike Garret knows that if he makes the wrong hire, the program could easily implode, taking the only revenue that USC athletics earn with it. Fuck Mike Reilly, and let the negotiations with The Legend (as suggested by Wilt and wholeheartedly agreed by myself) begin: