Tomorrow, for the first morning in seven years, the world will wake up to find Ron Zook unemployed.
The sun might as well not come up. The Mayans might as well be right. We might as well all just commit suicide and leave it at that, for all is lost.
Now, who will go for two point conversions just for shits and giggles? Who will allow the prolific Scheelhaase-to-Jenkins combo to flourish? Who will create his defensive playbook on the fly by pressing the Ask Madden button? Who will look so hot and dangerous while waterskiing?
The answer is nobody, my friends. Though there are many worthy candidates for the Illinois head coaching position- namely, Mike Leach and Kalen Wagoner- those men, and all others really, are incapable of filling the Zooker's small, oddly-shaped, putrid-smelling shoes.
'Tis a shame the old Greek poets have long been gone, for Homer could've written a bitchin' tome about the tragic hero named Ron Zook.
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