“You’re in this dark tunnel and you’ve got no way out… You’re waiting for the light and you see that light, so what do you do? You start digging and getting out.”
And if there’s no light at the end of the tunnel?
“You (have to) have the same belief in what you’re doing when you expect no light,” Marinelli said, before adding, “My shovel is sharp and my will is outstanding.”
Monday, November 10th in the year of 2008, Rod Marinelli has had his “Lions Coach” meltdown. They aren’t always as awesome as the Coach Mora “PLAYOFFS?!?!?” or Denny Green “CROWN THEM” rants, but as the end approaches you’ll get these moments when it’s clear that the pressure has crushed them and the psychosis sets in.
“My Pocket Shovel is This Big… And It’s Sharp Too!”
Even at the beginning of the season, Marinelli was sticking to his … well… Marinelli speak. Fundamentals this and football that, but now as the legitimate questions about how god awful this team is and how inept the coaching staff is start mounting to the point where they don’t even need to be asked; they answer themselves. The team sucks. Yeah, he can’t say it, but let’s face it: deep down inside (or not that far inside at all really), he knows that this team is terrible and can’t compete. So how do you answer these questions (that answered themselves on the field for the last nine weeks) when you’re really not allowed to be honest about the situation?
You make up a bunch of crazy crap and talk in circles.
Asked Monday if his team simply wasn’t good enough to win, Marinelli quickly disagreed.
“No, it means I’m not good enough,” he replied. “That’s how I always look at it. I’ve got to be better. I’m the leader of this football team, so eyes are on me, not on them. I firmly believe that. I think you always lead from the front, never from behind. So as I’m trying to lead this organization, if we’re inconsistent or things aren’t getting done right, the eyes are on me. …
“I’m miserable with myself. That’s the guy I’m fighting: me.”
Marinelli’s always been that fall on the sword guy. It’s his fault this and his fault that, and that can carry you for like a year or so, but in year three when we all know that you are personally responsible for the staff and players you’ve hand chose, it’s time to stop jabbering. Talk about how this didn’t work out and how you’re resigning your post at the end of the season. Fight yourself all you’d like, just please accept that this arrangement simply didn’t work out.