I have a hard time feeling sorry for coyotes (especially the ones that make such great hood ornaments), but this poor little bugger got more than he could handle when he stepped onto the track at the Toyota Arizona Proving Grounds and suddenly found himself on the ass end of one of life’s cruel 1 vs. 16 matchups. The background of this image is obviously the victor of this exchange, driven by Joe Gibbs Racing’s very own Brad “Road Runner” Coleman.

“It just started smoking like crazy. And it smelled terrible. I didn’t see anything in the mirror, so I was like, ‘I wonder where it went?’”

It went nowhere, Brad. And sure, your radiator’s full of coyote guts and your engine might be shot, but look on the bright side: that’s a new scarf for your wife. Too bad Arizona is hardly scarf weather. And honestly, this little guy probably had a better, less painful demise then the other Coyotes in the area.

Joe Gibbs is retiring from his job as coach, president, and chief guarantor of the Redskins' mediocrity.

Gibbs went 31-36, including 1-2 in the playoffs, after emerging from NFL retirement and his NASCAR career to sign a five-year, $27.5 million contract in 2004. He had always maintained he intended to fulfill the contract, but the 67-year-old coach wavered from that stance Monday when asked if he would return for the final year of his deal.

The blogosphere's leading Redskins fanboy/apologist/homer, Unsilent Majority, has already penned an artful farewell.

Even in the rocky years of the Gibbs comeback we owe a lot of thanks to the legendary coach/preacher. We thank him for two playoff seasons, we thank him for his leadership in the wake of Sean Taylor's murder, but mostly, we thank him for leaving.

Assistant coaches Al Saunders (700-page playbook) and Gregg Williams (overrated) are already the leading candidates, but you can expect Bill Cowher's name to pop up in rumors before Tom Cruise encourages Dan Snyder to hire Les Miles.

What better way to recover from your Monday football hangover than with a nice Suck-Off?  I've always been told that's one of my specialties, so let's go through the worst of Week 13 in the NFL.

Obviously, the Lions deserve a mention.  They've now lost 4 in a row since starting 6-2 and have ceded a shot at the NFC North title by sinking into the mire of .500 teams hoping for a Wild Card berth.  However, I can't fault them too much, as the return of Purple Jesus is a good excuse to bow down and not make tackles, particularly if you're on the receiving end of Ye Holy Knee-Crumpling Juke like Kenoy Kennedy.

First runner-up in the Suck-Off goes to Sean Payton for calling a reverse at midfield with fewer than 4 minutes to play and a three-point lead.  Reggie Bush — public enemy #1 on my fantasy team — fucked up the exchange to Devery Henderson, and the Bucs scored a game-winning touchdown… led by a McCown brother.  That's a special level of sucking.

But the winner of the Suck-Off, by unanimous decision, is Joe Gibbs.  By calling a second consecutive timeout to "ice" Bills kicker Rian Lindell, Gibbs incurred a 15-yard penalty, moving up Lindell's final attempt from 51 yards to 36.  Bills win 17-16.  The call spoiled a 'Skins defensive effort that didn't yield a touchdown, and the nature of the loss rubbed industrial rock salt into the emotional wound of Sean Taylor's death.  Gibbs is giving the words "Hall of Fame bust" a whole new meaning.

[Kissing Suzy Kolber; the Debriefing]