Ron Rivera stood in front of his full-length mirror with his favorite shirt in hand. He had been the first in line to get the limited-edition shirt at a New York Macy's in April of 2011. The shirt was meant to be a golf shirt, but Ron Rivera cut it down the middle and added buttons, because he always preferred the polished look of button downs. It was awful now and tattered from being over-worn and there was a rip over his left breast, revealing a nipple ring he got in Cancun when he was the Bears Defensive Coordinator.
He got in his his 1998 Suburban, which had a flat tire, but he continued to drive it on the rim. Seeing that it was low on gas, he pulled into a gas station two miles from the stadium and walked into the cashier to prepay.
"Do you barter?" Ron asked the cashier. The cashier just shook his head, "No." Ron, out of luck, walked the rest of the way to the stadium.
Sweaty and having earned another small rip in his favorite shirt, he made it to the stadium. His first stop was checking in on Mike Shula. As he came down the hall he smelled raw beef and peeked into Shula's office. ALF was on in the background and he was eating a raw potato like an apple and talking to a picture of his dad on the wall. Ron thought it best not to bother Shula during "Super Special Inspiration Time" and kept moving down the hall. He got to his office and collapsed into his chair. The weight of being an NFL head coach was taking it's toll on his talented football mind. He'd gone numb under the pressure, evidenced by his mood ring not having changed colors for months.
"Ron, you got a second?" McDermott stuck his head into the coach's office.
"Yeah, Sean, whatcha got for me?" Ron reached into his desk and pulled out a new pack of Bubblicious Paradise Punch. He took it in his fist and bit it off halfway down the pack and started chewing.
"We go way back, right man? Well I've got to level with you, you need to give that shirt a rest and maybe take it to the tailor. Let them get the shirt in good shape again."
"The shirt's fine."
"It's really not, Ron. That shirt's really hurting."
At that moment Dave Gettleman popped his head in. "Tha shaht's crap, Ron. Get a new shaht. I'll introduce you to my guy at the Goodwill. Yous won't believe what you can get for a dollah."
"Hey Dave, do you have any scotchguard, at least?"
"Rahn, sometime's the ansah's in the closet," Gettleman said on his way out the door.