Phil Sears-USA TODAY Sports
After seeing Doug Marrone “unplugged,” it’s abundantly clear that our complicated relationship with Saint Doug is the way that he’s basically our Dad.
I’ve always been a fairly decent Doug Marrone supporter. Sure I was miffed when he bolted from the Syracuse Orange after four years to take a gig with the Buffalo Bills, but I’ve written more things defending Saint Doug in the years since than probably anyone.
I don’t think I quite realized why I do that until I watched this video of Marrone mic’d up during a Jacksonville Jaguars OTA practice last week. Then it became abundantly clear. Doug Marrone is my Dad. He’s all our Dads.
He sings (badly) while everyone is trying to get work done. Try as you might to ignore him, he refuses to leave your periphery and he refuses to sing songs relevant to your interests.
“Don’t make eye contact with him, don’t make eye contact…”
He doesn’t seem to have any control over his mouth while it’s in use.
He says super-duper-awkward things like “Rap is a New York City thing, It ain’t nothin’ about race or culture, it’s New York City.” Shut up, Dad…shut up, shut up, shut up…and please don’t punctuate that sentence with an ungh OH GOD WHY DID YOU PUNCTUATE THAT SENTENCE WITH AN “UNGH.”
He watched a special about Saturday Night Live behind-the-scenes and always has to tell you that anecdote about John Belushi. “We know, Dad. We watched it with you.”
He’s got Dad Bod and not that Bullshit slightly-chubby Dad Bod that was trendy for a couple weeks. Actual Dad Bod. Like he ate another Dad and has yet to digest him.
Dad, please don’t make that face, my friends are here…Goddammit…
He’s singing Limp Bizkit now. I’m going home…
Seriously though, between all of this and the way he seemed at first to be my hero but eventually disappointed me before I came to terms with the fact that he’s just a guy trying his best in the world might require a couple therapy sessions this week…