An Open [Love] Letter to Bruce Arians (Kinda)

Dear Coach Arians,

Since this is an open letter, let’s start by nodding to your style.


I won’t play hard to get or beat around the bush. I love you, man. I am outraged that it took teams this long to give you a head coaching job. You should have had one by the age of 50, or maybe 40, and yet you had to wait until 60. I love how you throw it deep, regardless if your QB is Ben Roethlisberger, Andrew Luck, Carson Palmer, Drew Stanton, Logan Thomas… The vertical game is a sure sign of brass balls. I love your sense of style, as evidenced in the above photograph, available in larger original form here and also available by googling “Bruce Arians hats”. I love how you’ll call a cheap shot a cheap shot.

You’re probably the most loveable current HC. Chip Kelly’s your only real competition, with Marc Trestman saddled with Jay Cutler and Pete Carroll having such a juggernaut. Belichick’s an expert, but he’s in his 20th year as a HC, he SHOULD be an expert. Out of the other coaches, most lack balls or fall into the worst category, the “gut trusters” like Rex Ryan.

And then I noticed this quote you gave just a few days ago:

“I quit trusting my gut a long time ago. Son of a b—- has been lying to me forever.’’

That’s music to my ears, Coach, because I love facts – and profanity! But if not your gut, what are you listening to? It’s not your brain. If so, you wouldn’t be wasting timeouts.

How can you bitch at Larry Fitzgerald for burning the third timeout in the first quarter when you’ve already burned the first two? Those timeouts are about the most valuable tool you have as a coach, and you seem to think they’re worthless. All your brilliance and deep balls and honesty are absolutely fucking worthless if you’re out of timeouts. You can’t challenge plays, you can’t stop the clock, you often literally cannot win without them.

All you have to listen to is your brain. Here’s a brief primer. There’s many available. They’re available because it’s pretty simple stuff. The other stuff in your profession is difficult. Personnel packages, halftime adjustments, film breakdowns, play design… But the timeouts? Those are easy. Drunk people at bars can spot your clock management mistakes.

But there’s hope! A man who wears nose protection in the sun is brave enough to admit this problem and work to change it. I hope you do so this PLATONIC love affair we’re having can continue, instead of you losing your job soon and me having to look for another coaching soulmate.


Just a guy


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