Playmakers 2- The Ultimate NFL Fanfic

10.07.13 4 years ago 30 Comments


So I mentioned to you all that my favorite TV show of all time beside Sunday NFL countdown is Playmaker’s. I’ve been working on my own version of it, kinda like my Hard Knocks fanfic,  but this is more focused on a team instead of the League Office. Heres what I have so far.

Partial Cast

  • Greg Schiano: Head coach and nononsense type guy. He’ll grab you by your facemask like we use to back in the day before our country had all these problems.
  • Mike Vick: Slot Receiver/Punt Returner, convicted dogfighter and college dropout. 
  • Jay Cutler: QB and team captain for now
  • Tim Tebow: Worker
  • JJ Watt: Defenser who kind’ve just flies all over the place making plays
  • Aldon Smith: Defenser who thinks a “sack dance” is a celebration for when he polishes off a bag of Franzia before kickoff folks
  • Uncle Si From Duck Dynasty: Team Owner
  • Brett Farve: QB Coach/Travel Coordinator
  • Michelle Beadle: Attractive Virgin Reporter
  • PFT Commenter: Michelle Beadles Powerful domineering rich newsboss by the name of “PFT Commenter Gray” who has a taste for bondage

Since we last left the Playmakers squad, the team got sold to Uncle Si from Duckdynasty and moved to Pittsburg to form a crosstown rival to the Steelers since its such a great football town.

The first show opens with Tim Tebow pumping some SERIOUS iron in the weight room. Theres nobody else there. Clock on the wall read’s: 3:00 AM. A rooster walks by yawning (its EARLY)

CUT TO: Coach Schiano powerfully making love to someone. Sister Christians blasting so that it makes muffled bassnoises on most modern TVs that are tuned in. Schianos cussing himself out in the mirror so he can maintain a erection. As Night Ranger fades lower with volume and Coach Schiano dismounts we see… its his wife- he was having a morning sex with his wife.

CUT TO: Coach Schiano in his car smoking a stogie, music playing and credits rolling as you see all the Pittsburg sites he passes by: the River, that bridge, all the sites. 

Woke up this mornin’ and you had sex with your wife/

woke up this mornin’ and you got yourself a ring.. ring…ring… ring…

Cut to: Coach is addressing the team on the last day of training camp- cutdown day

Coach Schiano: Well folks,, we’ve got our list of cuts. Im going to read them all a loud and Ive got the bus waiting out front for everyone who wasnt good enough or was too much of a chinadoll to make this here team. (Schiano puts the megaphone to his mouth even though everybodys like within 9 feet of him. He starts to read down a list) 

Matt Forte, get your Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!* (*-all the other players know this is kind’ve Schiano’s catchphrase and they all chant it with him at the same time)

F. Jackson, Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!*

D. Jackson, Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!*

V. Jackson, Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!*

S. Jackson, Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!*

Tarv. Jackson, Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!*

All nonQBs wearing numbers 10-19- Get your ASS…ON…THAT…BUS!**


All the players who just got cut put on their big “X” patches on their shirts and get on the bus thats waiting. The bus pulls out to go drive off a cliff or something.

Tenacious/Pretty Michelle Beadles being escorted to the media interviewroom by Brett Farve.

Michelle Beadle: Thats a pretty cool way to fire someone,, much better then the pink slip IMO.

Brett Farve: Yeah, you know I use to disagree, but thats probably just because Im inclined to be attached to anything that can slide through a locker vent but Schianos got his own way I guess.

Michelle sits down on the chair, *ouch* she raises up again and sits back down. Shes waiting to interview the players who made the team. Jay Cutler is the first to take the podium.

Pete Prisco: Jay, Pete Prisco here from the ProFootballTalk Comment section, aw dangit my pen sploded in my shorts pocket account of my quads got to big from my workouts. These were my best set of Lee’s! WhadamIgonnado now?

Michelle Beadle: (she sees a opening to get her question in (she’s tenacious)) Jay, Michelle Beadle here. Congrats on making the team when haters doubted that youd make it. Talk about the players what got cut today.

Jay Cutler: Gawd. (Breathes heavily) They’re no good. (closes eyes sighs) Kindve slackers hhhhhhgghh

Michelle Beadle: Thats what Ive heard. Talk about how it feels to make it as a White QB in this world when racists are turning more of our Whites to positions like TE and GMs.

Jay Cutler: hggghhhghghgggg sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh gawd.

Mike Vick: (steps in) Im sorry Michelle, my man Jays pretty tired right now hes had a long day of being our leader. Here you go Jay drink your water, youll feel better.

Jay takes a big long swig of it- its actualy hummingbird nectar like the sweetest thing known to man. Jay doubles over and passes out. Schiano bursts through the door even though it was locked he kicked it over and sees his QB in a dibetic coma with Mike Vick smiling that disengenuous smile he does.

Coach Schiano: What in the sweet heck fuck is going on in here folks?

Mike Vick: Ionknow Coach. Jay was just meeting with this pretty lil thang here (Michelle seriously stares daggers at Mike Vick. It’s not going to happen Mike.) And he passed out. Guess youll be  needing a new QB for this weeks big contest verse the Steelers huh?

Coach Schiano: Like Hell I will.

Mike Vick: C’mon coach.

Coach Schiano: Nope Mike. Your our shiftiest most athletic slot receiver and jukiest punt return-type guy. Hell you came out your momma calling a fair catch. Nope, we wont be needing no Quarterback this week. (buckles chinstrap) I’m lining up at FB. Were running downhill on those sonsabitches oldschool style every play.


Somewhere across town, Mike Tomlin is drawing up a play on a White board, he turns around like something startled him. The cup of Hennessey that Tomlin has on the part of the white board where you rest your markers has a big ripple in it like Jurrassic Park.

Todd Haley: The fuck are you staring at Mike? C’mon now.

Mike Tomin: We might be in big big trouble Todd (thousand yard stare)

AFTER CREDITS- CUT TO The parking lot of the practice facility. Theres only one car there. Its nighttime. We zoom in slowly to the only window with a light on. Its the weight room. Tebows throwing up some power cleans and military presses staring straight ahead. Fade to black.


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