I am forever grateful to Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary for turning loose Butch Jones so he could be our head football coach. I think I can speak for everyone at the AA meeting when I say he has taught us the meaning of self respect, on account of how Butch showed us that strong drink is a good man's failing. Thanks, Butch. Now I don't feel so guilty about building the wall of my life, liquor bottle by liquor bottle. I'll always remember those nights we was out howling at the moon the way good men should. You been the best darn coach in the whole darn world, and you're not half bad company chasing raccoons with Old Blue all night long, even if you never did get a single one. When you finally get run off out of the coaching bidness, you know just where to come when you lay awake at night with the raccoon hunt acalling you. Old Blue likes you. I know he does. And Smoky likes you. So remember us and don't forget us. You get up and down those mountains admirable. We know that, no matter what anybody says about you. You're a right good man, who has changed the way we think about Michigan yankees. If there weren't nothing else, that's something right there.