I agree with Shakespeare. Hooray for fat guys.
In real life Julius Caesar did not say this, but in Shakespeare’s play the Roman emperor values adipose tissue:
“Let me have men about me who are fat;
sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o’ nights.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
he thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.”
Since ABC retired the great Beano Cook as a college football commentator, the revered title of oldest, ugliest and fattest man in sports broadcasting was passed to me. I wasn’t necessarily born for it. I had to grow into it.
I discovered my calling almost four years ago. Not long after open heart surgery, I realized I had stopped smoking. I never thought I had the will power. Quitting smoking isn’t like taking a different way to work. It’s like changing jobs. Besides, there’s nothing better than the morning paper, a cup of java and your first cigarette of the day.
Man, that’s living!
It’s not something I wanted to give up.
But here it was, the scar still fresh on my chest and not a hankering for a cigarette. I haven’t had one since, but I don’t claim it as a victory because it was too easy. Victories are supposed to be hard-fought. This was a bye on the bracket sheet. I felt like a cheater. Resorting to surgery is like taking steroids to hit home runs.
It’s true what they say. Nicotine gets replaced with something and that something is food. I was always a strong trencherman, but I have advanced to the next level. At a buffet table I’m like a vacuum cleaner. If it’s not nailed to the carpet I eat it. I’ve put on at least 30 pounds in four years. If you want to get me a shirt, make it a size 17 1/2 neck. I have only one suit that fits me.
But I’m not complaining because this was a good year for fat guys, especially fat football coaches.
Take Browns coach Romeo Crennell, whose neck disappeared several seasons ago. After a slow start Romeo finished strong. Ten wins was the most by a Browns team in over a decade. Romeo’s 300-plus pounds are the most by a Browns’ coach in history.
It was not a good year for Notre Dame coach Charlie Weis, but I have a theory about that. Charlie and Romeo were colleagues on the New England Patriots’ staff, but they went in different directions. Romeo embraced his fatness. Weis resisted it. Weis had half his insides cut out in order to stop eating, which from all appearances did not work. I don’t know if there’s a connection, but his team stopped winning.
I admire three coaches in particular who seem to rejoice in their largeness — Mark Mangino of Kansas, Ralph Friedgen of Maryland and Tom Amstutz of Toledo. These are the three biggest names, er frames, in college coaching. All seem comfortably over 300 pounds, their heads emerging directly from between their shoulders. If they had necks, their shirt size would be about 25 inches.
You may have noticed that Mangino’s Kansas team won the Orange Bowl the other night. They love this guy out in Lawrence, Kansas, even though he’s been reprimanded by the Big 12 for abusing officials and has been penalized by the NCAA for bending the rules. In the end, though, you’ve got to love a fat guy from Elwood City, Pa.
Friedgen was an overnight sensation on the scales. He came out of Westchester County, N.Y., as a 190-pound high school quarterback. At the University of Maryland he grew into an offensive lineman. He now resembles a sumo wrestler and has had Maryland in four straight bowl games, one for each jowl.
What can you say about Tom Amstutz at Toledo? Start with, “I am not worthy to touch your size 70 tunic.” Toledo was not invited to a bowl game this year, which is unusual for Amstutz. That’s like Tom missing last call at the dessert table. It doesn’t happen often.
Each one of these guys is a candidate for coach of the year. If not, I’ll eat my words.
Dan Coughlin is a columnist for The Chronicle-Telegram and a sportscaster for Channel 8. Contact him at 329-7135 or ctsports@chroniclet.com. 

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