Lou Holtz’s Coaching Is No Joke, but He Sure Can Tell One

But seriously, folks, Lou Holtz does coach football between news conferences, TV interviews, appearances on “The Tonight Show” and other gigs.

In fact, there’s a growing school of thought that Holtz might actually be as good a coach as he is a comedian.

He does magic, too. Like tearing up a newspaper and putting it back together again. Or rope tricks. Or going to Notre Dame and winning with Gerry Faust’s players.

Lou’s had his game face on this week. Good material, but he’s had better. For example, during his national telephonic news conference the other day, he was talking about the possibility of playing in 70-degree weather Saturday in Los Angeles.

“The last time I can remember 70-degree weather, the Cubs were still in the pennant race,” he said.

Good, but not great, right? Plainly, big-game-week pressure might be getting to him.

So, since everyone is getting awfully up-tight over this No. 1 vs. No. 2 stuff, let’s go to the Holtz quip file, and hope everyone lightens up a bit:

On his spring practice: “It wasn’t any tougher than your average death march.”

On stupidity: “How do you know what it’s like to be stupid if you’ve never been smart?”

On a shower of oranges thrown at him during an Orange Bowl Game: “I’m just glad it wasn’t the Gator Bowl.”

On being asked to name the strong points of a Minnesota backup quarterback, after his starter was injured: “He doesn’t have any.”

On his golf game: “All my life, I’ve been trying to make a hole-in-one. The closest I’ve come is a bogey.”

On his wife: “We were at a beach one summer, and I had a bathing suit on. My wife looked at me and said: ‘Boy, you are skinny, aren’t you?’ I said: “Honey, I’d like to remind you that it was minor defects like this that kept me from getting a better wife.”

On rumors in 1982 that he was leaving Arkansas: “I have never thought of leaving Arkansas. Suicide, yes. Leaving, no.”

On, well, the blind man story:

“Football coaches don’t have real problems. If you want to feel sorry for someone, feel sorry for the blind man whose Seeing Eye dog led him across the street through the worst traffic you ever saw. Miraculously, they got to the other side, where the blind man reached into his pocket for a biscuit for his dog.

“Then a bystander ran up and said: ‘Mister, you shouldn’t reward that dog, after he took you through that kind of traffic.’ The blind man said: ‘I’m not trying to reward him him. I’m trying to find his mouth so I can kick him in the tail.’ ”

On ties: “It’s true that a tie is like kissing your sister, but that’s better than kissing your brother.”

On playing at Nebraska, when he coached Minnesota:

“We just hope to make enough money to cover the hospital expenses.”

On his tombstone: “It’ll say: ‘To my wife--I told you I was sick.’ ”

On coaching staffs: “There’s a quote in the Bible that says Joseph died leaning on his staff. The same thing’ll be said about me when I pass away.”

On Jackie Sherrill, when they lived 40 miles apart near Pittsburgh:

“Jackie once told me to come by for a visit. I did just that one morning, at 3 a.m. Not sure that I was at the right address, I honked the horn. Mrs. Sherrill appeared at the front door. I said: ‘Is this where Jackie Sherrill lives?’ She said: ‘Yeah. Just bring him in and lay him down in the hall, like everybody else does.’ ”

On Woody Hayes:

“When O.J. Simpson ran 80 yards for a touchdown against Ohio State in the 1969 Rose Bowl game, I was coaching Ohio State’s secondary. Fortunately, I was in the press box at the time.

“But when I got to the locker room, Woody came right at me and took a strategic grasp of my jugular and asked: ‘Why did O.J. go 80 yards?’ I told him: ‘Because that’s all he needed, Coach.’ ”

On a sportswriter who asked for a 2-hour interview: “My wife doesn’t even want to spend 2 hours with me.”

On a sportswriter who asked him how he felt about being named Notre Dame’s head coach:

“What do you mean, what does it feel like? Look at me. I’m 5-10, I weigh 150 pounds, I talk with a lisp, I look like I have scurvy, I’m not very smart, I was a terrible football player and I graduated 234th in a high school class of 278. What do you think it feels like to be named head coach at Notre Dame?”

On Notre Dame’s national championship fencing team: “I wrote a note to the coach, congratulating him, and pointing out that our chances of winning the national championship in football would be greater if our players were allowed to use sabers.”

On poor defenses: “Any time your defense gives up more points than your basketball team, you’re in trouble.”

On drugs: “As coaches, we’ve got to get rid of pot and drugs--and then we’ve got to go to work on Pac-Man.”

On his lack of sports and academic achievements as a youth: “You hear people talk about having an inferiority complex. Me, I didn’t have a complex. I was inferior.”

On one of his Arkansas quarterbacks: “He can do everything with the ball except autograph it. He’s not very smart, but we’re working on that.”

On Arkansas defensive end, Billy Ray Smith, who is now with the San Diego Chargers: “Billy Ray is so quick he plays tennis with himself.”

On his job security when he was at Arkansas: “I have a lifetime contract. That means I can’t be fired during the third quarter if we’re ahead and moving the ball.”

On his hometown, East Liverpool, Ohio: “It’s on the Ohio River, except every spring when it’s in the river.”