[Charlotte.com] Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, Lou Holtz? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Blake Mitchell and you curse Chris Smelley. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Mitchell’s benching, while timely, probably won a ball game. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, wins ballgames…You don’t want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don’t talk about at Cocky Talk gatherings, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.

We use words like tradition, Moral victories, Cock…we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use ’em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very tradition I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I’d rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a helmet and plug the B Gap. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to!