"You really know how to talk their language, Boots," said Senior Assistant Coach Hi-Ho Hennessy as they walked down to Zorro's room to watch some films.
"Well, you've got to know what motivates these guys nowadays," Boots explained. "It's a tough job. Already I've read that I could be replaced. The management is considering Pop Ivy, Joe Kuharich and Dick Schaap. I'll tell you, Hi-Ho, you're only as good as your last chapter."
They came to Boots' room and went inside. Hardly had they settled in front of the projector, though, when reserve Cornerback Lloyd Radebaugh knocked and entered.
"What is it, Radebaugh?"
"Well, Coach, I just don't think it's fair," the wiry speed merchant began. "Why am I the only player that doesn't get to room with his editor?"
"Radebaugh, I am not singling you out," Zorro replied. "I appreciate that your publishers, Peep Press, are trying to get you to provide more of the woman's angle—so-called—but sending along Miss Appleby as your editor for the season is just too much."
Boots frowned as Radebaugh left. There was another knock on the door; it was Dean Repass, everybody's All-Pro quarterback whose fancy six-figure book deal was the shop talk of the whole NFL. "You wanted to see me, Coach?"
"Yeah, Dean," Zorro said. "I'll come right to the point. Look, I know you've got a great deal and, like all of us, you want to keep the best stuff for your own book but, really, look—I think you have just got to call the plays out loud so that all the players can hear them."
"Coach, that's not fair. That's just giving some of my best quotes away to the other guys' books—"
"Dean, please, they're not 'quotes.' They're signals. The team just can't win if you don't let everybody else in on what plays you're calling. C'mon, whadya say?"