Larry Fedora’s letters from the front lines of the ‘War on Football’ – Troy Nunes Is An Absolute Magician

A man of action, Fedora fled the Westin ballroom to enlist in the defense effort, posthaste. He worried not about what would happen to the Tar Heels in his care, for what would be the point of remaining to coach them without football to play? Besides, the team could surely skate by opponents like ECU without a coach. When he returned, they — and America — would be better for it.

The insurgents have enlisted Bears to aid their cause, apparently. I’m not sure how we’ll be able to fight them with just our company. I was never given a command, per se, but was able to find a gaggle of individuals playing some primitive beanbag-based game shortly after arriving here. They are my army. And while we don’t have weapons, we have faith in football. And it is with that which we will fight.

Following our victory in the East Bay, I was encouraged to board a metallic bird and return to North Carolina. Regretfully, I won’t be in Chapel Hill and must support you from afar in your efforts against the Pirates of Greenville. I know it’s a road game and I’ll actually be right down the street at a local pub, but this is where you win the hearts and minds of the local people. Here, I’ll be preaching the good word of football, converting the natives to the ideals it instills in our military and democracy at large.

I see that you’ve failed to take on a loss this week, and that is for the best. I wish you the best of luck with the coming storm to hit the shores of the Carolinas. I will be in Florida, sampling the local fare of some rebel dictatorship known as Orlando. Our foes here worship at the altar of a giant mouse, who lives in a castle in the middle of a swamp. These will be difficult opponents to sway to our side, but I have much faith we can vanquish the rodent.

I see you’ve returned home and tallied a victory in favor of the Pro Football Coalition. These Northern aggressors can protest all they’d like. I hear their faint cries of “yinz” from every corner of the Best Western I’m staying at two miles from campus. These creatures have evolved their own language apart from ours in order to divide this country and deface the game of football.

Greetings, men I’ve never met before. I’ve heard you are in poor health following a trip to the Southern portion of Florida territory. Don’t let them don the chain. Once they do, there is no chance at victory. These green-clad ruffians are not anti-football. They are pro football but not in a sense that I am. It’s a strange dynamic and one I’m not fully prepared to speak to in this form of letter-writing. You’ll have to forgive me for not expanding upon my point of view any further than these cursory generalities.

As you have, we have struggled in our battle of late. My cohorts abandoned me once I departed Berkeley and I began to tell them about how CTE is a lie. I am now in my own company until I find more to join the cause. I have faith they are out there, or else we’ve already lost. Still, I trudge on, and wander through these loud environments around me.