So you want to be a get- back coach?

I knew I was living on borrowed time at my last stop when a parent told me "you have the  greatest job on earth." Job? I thought those resulted in paychecks.
 Said he, I was already a "legend", on the way to becoming an "institution." If being the Get-back coach at that school were such a great gig, why wasn't anyone trying to take it away from me?  
Nobody has ever applied for the lowly job of get-back coach. I certainly didn't.   I had been away from football for more than twenty years  when  some guys who played for my forner high school coach asked me to join them for their season-opening game a hundred miles from home.
The previous season i had hollered a little too loudly from the sideline and was adopted as sideline mascot
by a bunch of kids just recovering from soccer.
 The prospect of a two hundred mile round trip in a school bus geared for short hauls should have deterred me.
 But I thought we might still have some of the magic dust that had taken the previous year's team to a Cinderella appearance in the state semifinal game.
So here I was in the lockerroom, 1o minutes til kickoff , the honored guest of the coach and team.
Then the officials  made their routine pre-game visit to the lockerroom. After checkimg  for  weapons  They asked the standard question, "Coach, who's your get-back coach?"
The HC responded, without hesitation, "Coach J is our get-back coach."
If you've just been suckered into football's most humble role, here's a primer from a legendary get-back coach whose greatness is undiminished by the fact that he desecrates the Sabbath by working on  Sundays in the No Fun League.