A "Thank You" from Brad Childress


Dear followers of the Purple and Gold,

It is with great sadness that I write this letter. As of Monday, November 22, 2010, I will no longer be the coach of the Minnesota Vikings. The Wilf family, in their shared wisdom, has decided to move this proud franchise in another direction. While I will miss the players with whom I have developed a shared appreciation for the Vikings’ legacy, I find myself not in a state of regret, but rather in a state of deep pride and thankfulness.

The following is an open letter of thanks to all those who made my 4+ years in Minnesota so very memorable (for best results, read while simultaneously listening the Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You”):

Thank you to Zygi Wilf
, for allowing me to bring my kick-ass offense, rigid management style, complete lack of personality, and gigantic ego to the great state of Minnesota for what I have to believe will go down as “the best four years in the state’s history.” Without you, all of those people who considered me an overrated coordinator in Philadelphia wouldn’t have had a chance to say “I told you so.” Without you, I would’ve never had the opportunity to unleash my patented two-yard curl-route on third-and-14 on so many unsuspecting defenses. Without you, I would not know the true meaning of love. [Note: you can keep the mix CDs I gave you, but I’d like my beanbag chair back.]

Thank you to Mark Wilf, for always making sure you were in the background of every possible photo opportunity and press conference, even though your older brother Zygi obviously runs the show and you never made it out of Pee Wee football. You always made me laugh, you creepy, little glory hog.

Thank you to the Minnesota media, for always keeping me grounded as a coach and as a human being. When the team made it to the NFC Championship game in 2009, you were the first to give the lion’s share of the credit to the players. When the team faltered this year, you were right there to point out that my game-plan was s***, my communication skills blew, and I had no business living on this planet or any other. I appreciate the ego-check.

Thank you to Bret Favre, for playing out of your ass in 2009, leading this franchise to one of its most exciting and enjoyable seasons ever, and for conversely behaving like an ass in 2010, helping drag down a promising season with sub-par play on the field, adolescent behavior off the field, and really grainy pictures of your wiener everywhere else. Nobody threw me under the bus with more vigor and flair than you did, Brett. I’ll miss you the most. (P.S. – I tapped Jen Sterger on the balcony of the Hattiesburg Ramada Inn this summer.)

Thank you to Tarvaris Jackson, for never breaking our “I’ll draft and play you, if you never reveal my secret about being a bald werewolf” deal. With no talent to speak of and the I.Q. of a urinal cake, it would have been very easy for you to expose me as the below-average talent evaluator that I truly am. Instead, you allowed me to help you escape Alabama and make a lot of money in exchange for letting me crash at your place during full moons.

Thank you to Percy Harvin, for showing the rest of the team that practice is for losers. From migraines to ankle sprains (hey, did I just rhyme?), you provided every excuse under the sun for not practicing during the week, only to say you’re ready to play on Sunday. Not since the days of Allen Iverson has a professional athlete provided such a shining example to aspiring athletes everywhere. I’m only glad that I could help contribute to your scam. “Ow, the bright lights and loud noise hurts my head.” You crazy S.O.B., you.

Thank you to big-hearted Minnesota Vikings fans everywhere, for always showing a willingness to give. In all my years of coaching, I have never seen a fan-base so willing to ‘give’ me the finger, ‘give’ up on their team when they’re trailing by 4 with a quarter and a half left to play, and ‘give’ their home tickets away to Packers’ fans during the border battle. It was my honor to resent everything about you over these past four years.

Speaking of giving, thank you to Marcus Robinson, for reminding people that the holiday season is all about giving…pink slips. Ask anybody, Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. I only wish the two of us could spend every holiday season together, so I could cut your one-dimensional ass over and over just before opening my presents.

Thank you to Randy Moss. Oh, wait. I meant to say “F*** you to Randy Moss.” Sorry about that. This virtual keyboard on my iPhone is really touchy.

Thank you to Bryant McKinnie, for reinforcing the stereotype that big, dumb and lazy left tackles are big, dumb and lazy. Aside from the multitude of sacks you’ve allowed, holding penalties you’ve committed, and off-the-field distractions you’ve provided, you were a perfect book-end for our offensive line. Tweet that, mother-f****r!

Lastly, thank you to Katy Perry, for continuing to create beautifully arranged and lyrically complex music. I’m not sure how I would’ve made it through the news of my firing without “Teenage Dream.” I mean, seriously:

We drove to Cali
And got drunk on the beach
Got a motel and
Built a fort out of sheets
I finally found you
My missing puzzle piece
I’m complete


F***ing brilliant!

Love,
Chilly

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