All right, guys, gather around and listen up. We’re going to make some major adjustments for the second half and I want everyone to pay attention.

First off, let me just say that I take full responsibility for the first half. I was unaware of last season’s rule change that allowed robots to play Division I-A college football, and by the time I found out it was too late to do any robot recruiting. That’s a total coaching failure, and if there’s any one reason why we’re behind 83 to zero, that would be it.

That being said, let’s regroup and focus on what we can do in the second half.

First off, defense. Linemen, what the hell’s going on out there? What happened to our great pass rush? No, no, I don’t want to hear anything about saw blades. It doesn’t matter what the opposing linemen have protruding from their torsos spinning at 50,000 rpm, you guys have to get to the quarterback. I mean, it’s not like the blades cover every inch of their bodies. Just avoid grabbing the places Johnson did—who, by the way, is fine, although obviously he’ll never play again—and find a grip.

Cornerbacks. You guys haven’t knocked down a single pass! What? No, of course I don’t expect you to jump 20 feet into the air. But you’ve faced talented receivers before. Remember Texas A&M? Those guys had, like, four inches on you, and we still held them to 50 passing yards. It doesn’t matter whether the advantage is height or speed or hydrogen-fueled jetpacks welded onto a steel frame, you’ve got to use your brain to get around it. In this case, I would recommend jumping on their backs right before the jetpacks ignite. Maybe get up in the air with them and knock the ball down. If we get called for pass interference, well, we’ll just get called.

Special teams. The best I can figure it, they’re flinging you across the field with something involving hyper-targeted magnetic fields, so take off all the metal on your bodies and we’ll see if that works. If it doesn’t, I want to see a lot of laterals on the kickoff returns.

All right, offense. O-line, I don’t know what to tell you. I know you’re trying, and to be honest, I can’t think of any adjustment for hydraulic pistons pushing you out of the way with 7,000 pounds per square inch. This is something we’ll just have to work on in the weight room afterward, maybe get ready for them next year. In the meantime, we’ll call a lot of screen passes, maybe try to take advantage of it, throw the ball to Richards in the slot.

Richards, quit crying. Honestly, you’ve been acting like a baby all game. I can understand being a bit rattled after the first epileptic seizure, but you’d think that after the sixth you’d be used to it. Just don’t look into their flashing eyes when you line up behind the quarterback, all right? Simple as that.

Speaking of quarterbacks—Sullivan. Now that we know the lasers aren’t lethal, there’s no need to hit the ground as soon as the linebackers start aiming their arm cannons, OK? Buck up and take it.

Guys, I still think there’s a chance we can win this one. We just need to get our focus back and not let the score or the pre-snap trash talking get in our heads. Heck, if you ask me, I don’t think “OBJECTIVE: ADVANCE BALL AT ALL COSTS” is really anything to get freaked out about, even if it’s being constantly repeated by a chorus of synchronized soulless mechanical voices.

All right, I’m going to give the next 15 minutes to the coordinators and the team doctors. Now get out there and make your school proud!