“Oh, god, I made eye contact.”

BILL MARTIN: Congratulations on the conference championship, Les.

LES MILES: Bill, Michigan and I broke up thirteen years ago.

BILL MARTIN: It doesn’t mean we can’t go out.

LES MILES: Well, it does, actually. That’s what “I’m not a candidate for that job and I will not be a candidate for the job” is.

BILL MARTIN: You going to Ann Arbor tonight?

LES MILES: No!

SKIP BERTMAN: No!

BILL MARTIN: Don’t you wanna open your present?

LES MILES: If it’s a severed head, I’ll be very upset. Unless it’s Nutt’s.

BILL MARTIN: Open it.

LES MILES: OK. OK. …what is it?

BILL MARTIN: It’s 2.5 million a year for five years. And a coatrack.

LES MILES: Sh’yeah, great. I don’t even own A Coat, let alone many coats necessitating an entire rack. What am I gonna do with a coat rack, unless I abandon my fresh SEC laurels, unfathomably deep in-state talent base, and use of a live tiger to live in Michigan?

BILL MARTIN: You don’t like it? Fine.

[flounces away]

[returns]

BILL MARTIN: Les, if you’re not careful, you’re gonna lose us.

LES MILES: I lost you thirteen years ago. You? Lost ME when you threw the spotlight at me on the eve of preparing my team for a conference championship. We broke up. Get the net*!  It’s time that Michigan goes on with their search for a football coach. I’ll say it again, I’m going to be the coach at LSU next season.** Are you mental?

*Or a sailboat with a satellite dish.–ed.

**”Unless I’m not.”