[Sound of trumpets and fanfare]
Tedford: Old woman!
Dennis: Man!
Tedford: Man, sorry... What coach lives in that stadium over there?
Dennis: I'm 37!
Tedford: What?
Dennis: I'm 37, I'm not old!
Tedford: Well I can't just call you "Man"...
Dennis: You could say "Dennis"...
Tedford: I didn't know you were called Dennis.
Dennis: Well you didn't bother to find out, did you?
Tedford: I did say sorry about the old woman, but from behind you looked...
Dennis: (interrupting) What I object to is your automatically treatin' me like an inferior!
Tedford: Well I AM Head Coach...
Dennis: Oh, Head Coach, eh? Oh, very nice... And how'd you get that, eh? By exploiting the players! By hanging on to outdated Bear Bryant-esque dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our sport! If there's ever gonna be any progress in college football...
Woman: Denny, there's some lovely filth down here!
[Noticing Tedford] Oh! How d'you do?
Tedford: How do you do, good lady. I am Jeff Tedford, Head Coach of the California Golden Bears. Whose stadium is that?
Woman: Head Coach of the who?
Tedford: The Golden Bears.
Woman: Who are the Golden Bears?
Tedford: Well we all are... We are all Golden Bears... And I am your Head Coach.
Woman: I didn't know we had a head coach... I thought we were an autonomous collective.
Dennis: You're foolin' yourself. We're livin' in a dictatorship! A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the paying fans and donors...
Woman: (interrupting) Oh there you go, bringing alumni donations into it again...
Dennis: That's what it's all about! If only people would...
Tedford: Please, please, good people, I am in haste. Who lives in that stadium?
Woman: No one lives there.
Tedford: Then who is your coach?
Woman: We don't have a coach.
Tedford: What?
Dennis: I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to sort of act as a sort of executive officer for the week.
Tedford: Yes.
Dennis: But all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting...
Tedford: Yes I see.
Dennis: ...by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs...
Tedford: Be quiet!
Dennis: But by a two-thirds majority in the case of more major...
Tedford: Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!
Woman: Order, eh? Who does he think he is?
Tedford: I am your Head Coach!
Woman: Well I didn't vote for you!
Tedford: You don't vote for Head Coaches.
Woman: Well how'd you become head coach then?
[Angelic music plays...]
Tedford: The Lady of the Golden Gate, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft The Axe from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Jeff Tedford, was to carry The Axe. THAT is why I am your Head Coach! Though lately, I seem to have misplaced...
Dennis: (interrupting) Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' axes is no basis to run a football program! Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the fan-base, not from some farcicial aquatic ceremony!
Tedford: Be quiet!
Dennis: I mean, you can't expect to wield supreme executive power over the offensive scheme just because some water-sports-loving tart threw a buyout-free contract at you!
Tedford: SHUT UP!
Dennis: I mean, if I went 'round thinking I could bench a talent like Brendan Bigelow for not mastering my tome of a playbook and still blaming player execution just because some moistened bink lobbed a machete at me, they'd put me away!
Tedford: SHUT UP! WILL YOU SHUT UP, YOU NEGABEAR! [Grabs Dennis]
Dennis: Ah! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Tedford: SHUT UP!
Dennis: ... Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!
Tedford: BLOODY FAKE FAN!!!
Dennis: Oh, what a giveaway! Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about! Did you see him repressin' me? You saw it, didn't you?
(END OF SCENE)