If you're like me, you're sick and tired of these upper-class, high-falutin' NFL head coaches thinkin' they're so all-fired superior all the time. Lily-livered panty-waists, the lot of 'em! Always rubbin' your nose in the fact that they got it so much better'n you and me, the common workin' man! Like that Jimmy Johnson with his twenty-cent words and his immaculate hair tonics. Phooey! Or that Jon Gruden, always flauntin' his blonde hair and white teeth. Disss-gustin'.
Y'see, the way you'd hear Sando tell it, Jim Harbaugh don't put on no fancy-pants airs like ride first class when he flies from town to town on his reg'lar-folks job o' bein' a good ol' smash-mouth football coach. Not like these other sissy-britches like Bill Belichick and Tom Coughlin and whatnot, galavantin' from town ta town with their mouths crammed so full o' frog legs and duck liver they cain't hardly think straight!
No-sir, Jim Harbaugh...well, he's just reg'lar folks. Flyin' coach! Shoot. Make you like to never root for another team, s'long as ol' Coach Harbaugh's on the job! Never in m'life have a seen a cuss so danged humble. Bet he even changes his own oil while that ivory-tower-dwellin' Norv Turner is sittin' in a EZ Lube lobby somewheres, readin' th' economist. Dollars to donuts that good ol' Coach Harbaugh keeps a gallon o' that orange pumice hand soap by his kitchen sink. What does that good-for-nothin' Rex Ryan use? Dial? No thank you.
'Scuse me. I'm off to go say a prayer for ol' Coach Harbaugh. Bless you, fella. Keep up the good work.
To till the land with the common 49ers fan, get your hands dirty over at Niners Nation.