Necessary Roughness Page #3

Featherstone, once again. Try again.|Come on.

Set... Hut! Hut!

Try again! Keep trying, son!|Just keep your eyes on the ball!

Damn!

Again!

- Again!|- Hut!

Good! That's better!

What the hell is it, Samurai?|You got a problem?

My master said football is not just|a game of smashing heads.

lt is a contest to control|and occupy territory.

No sh*t?

My master says, ''Put your money|where your mouth is.''

All right!

Set! Hut!

lt works for me.

- What's the story, Wally?|- He could've been the greatest.

l saw him pass for five touchdowns|in the high school championships.

- l had him set to go to Penn State.|- Then what happened?

His father died,|and he never thought twice.

He gave it all up|to run the family business.

He missed college.

He missed everything.

Oh, God, l'm sorry! You OK?

No. l was just hit in the head|by a racquetball.

- Could l have my ball?|- Yeah.

Thanks. 1 0 - 8.

l'm really sorry l hit you.

Oh...it's OK.

l...

Never let these kids see|you're hurting.

Yeah. They smell liniment and they're|on you like a pack of wild dogs!

A freshman called me ma'am,|l wanted to smack him.

l know what you mean.

- Well, l'm glad you're OK.|- Yeah. No, l'm...

Are you in a hurry?

Yeah, teaching four classes|tomorrow. What's your department?

Athletics.

We'll probably run into each other|at the faculty mixer.

Probably.

- OK.|- See you around.

l'll need McKenzie,|and l want the two twins.

No, not the twins.

They're the only two who like|each other without being suspect.

They have to protect your ageing|quarterback. l'll give you Granger.

- Granger?|- No, you won't.

Hello, Dean.

Jesus! Even a rattlesnake|gives you some warning.

- What's wrong with Granger?|- lncomplete summer school.

You know the rule: no pass, no play.

That shouldn't be a problem.|We'll take it to the Appeals Board...

Absolutely.|The Appeals Board meets in July.

Or is it every other July?

l'm sure you wouldn't circumvent|the rules, Mr 'Straight Arrow'.

- Sorry, you just lost Granger.|- l'm sorry, too, Wally.

- Wally, right?|- You can call me Walter.

And while we're at it...

...Florentine, Pasarelli, Prescott,|Risdon, Marks...

Wait a minute. All of them?

As of this morning.|Grade point averages too low.

- You expect us to field a team?|- l don't.

Well, that's a quick end to a season.

You don't have enough for offence.|l don't have enough for defence.

Wally?

- We do if we play both ways.|- Are you kidding?

lron Man football with these daisies?|You're taking too many pills!

You OK?

Set!

Hut! Hut!

Hold it.

- Pads?|- No pads for me.

ln Australian Rules, only the ref|and spectators wear pads. Trust me.

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