Oregon Football: Some Donors Want Chip Kelly Out, Weren't Loved By Their Mothers Enough

The Eugene sky is damp with the tears of oblivion. Rich people in Oregon have had enough of BCS bowl appearances, conference championships, national title showings. They know that the time for change has come and they must embrace their inner Andy Ludwig.

Hugh Jass seems wound up in an interminable loop of shaking his head in dismay. "I've had it up to here with Chip Kelly. I donate a few thousand dollars here and there, sold my son's college fund and pawned most of the family jewlery to get the ins on some booster meetups."

Soce O. Patt gave the thousand year stare at the mention of Chip, as if the name drove him to the edge of madness. "We were at a country club function together, and I walked up behind him and tried to get his attention by being as facetious as possible. I talked about how I love I made 15 distasteful jokes about beavers. He looked like he was about to throw up. He really needs to go away or I'll make him go away." (He smiles crazily, and at this point the interviewers flee in terror.)

Ima Weener had this to say as he wiped his wet sloppy cheeks off. "Chip and I, we locked eyes with one another, and I saw nothing but icicles. It was like he was frozen in time and he didn't seem to think I mattered at all. Like I wasn't even there. At least 0.00001% of this program belongs to me, I deserve due diligence!"

"All he loves is that damned football of his. Doesn't he care that I love that football too?"

A man with a mangled face had this to say. "I paid him a small fortune. Doesn't this give me power over him?" He continued to mumble these words as he vanished into the foliage with a steady unpacing walk. He is still missing.

Innse Curitee has this to say. "I just want him to make me feel like I exist. Like I belong. All he cares about are football and himself. What about my need to be cared for caring about football and myself? Can't he acknowledge me for ten seconds before he goes on to meet other people he won't care about ten seconds from now?"

Curitee added: "Not once in the past six years he's been here has he acknowledged that my life is an empty vassal devoid of meaning or experience."

Approached for comment, Phil Knight could only manage a scowl as he looked up from his desk. "Could you trifles bother me later? I'm building a space station."