By Chuck Strouse
By Scott Fishman
By Terrence McCoy
By Ryan Yousefi
By Ciara LaVelle, Kat Bein, Carolina Del Busto, and Liz Tracy
By Pepe Billete
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Swenson
Miami New Times has recovered internal University of Miami documents that reveal how the administration is dealing with the recent scandal surrounding Kyle Munzenrieder, a student who blogged a raunchy rap song recorded by members of the football team. Munzenrieder, you may recall, was forced to leave his dorm after posting a nine-minute song that included, count 'em, thirteen references to female body parts.
No time to talk about this nonsense in practice, so I’m sending you lugs a memo. Some computer weasel passed out a rap-hop song recorded by a few players a couple of years ago. Now we all have to deal with reporters’ crappy questions. Fact is, I listened to this so-called song on the Radioweb, and it’s a bunch of doo-doo. One thing’s for sure, though: Neither I nor this great university condone “running a seven-man train” all up in anybody. Nor do we want young ladies “gettin’ muddied by the whole damn crew.” Period.
To: University of Miami President Donna Shalala
I gave the kids hell for that darn song, worse than after Georgia Tech even. I swear I was channeling Bear Bryant, Vince Lombardi, and Attila. They cowered. They whined. They sniveled. I can assure you there will be no repeat of that little ditty. I have to say, though, kids are kids. (Just hang out with Willie Williams for a while — course, he’s got a thing for breaking and entering, but the guy’s a hoot!) And I think we all know who the real villain is here. Thanks for getting that Interweb geek the hell out of Dodge! So anyway, we’re sorry, but hey, you couldn’t pay for that Ferrari of yours if it weren’t for us, could you?
Between you, me, and the coconut tree, we are getting some serious interest from the best high school players in the country since that damn song showed up on the Radionet. I mean, the cream of the crop. What we need is another one. Tell you what: Let’s mike up the locker room. All those kids talk about is pussy, and man, do they get a lot. I mean, I’m the coach. I’m the goddamn brains. But do I get smokin’ hot tail? Nooooo. So, Deeterpee, what say we mike up the shower, pound on a snare drum or some damn thing, and put it out there on the Interradio so the friggin’ Herald can get its greasy paws on it. We’ll lock up the best recruiting class ever, Deepee, the finest young bucks in UM history.