Brad Childress: Who I Really Am and The Future of my NFL Career

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Dear Zygi Wilf and the Minnesota Vikings Organization,

In light of recent events and the buildup of endless guilt for the lies that have surrounded my life in my years as a football coach, I write you this letter to inform you of my resignation. The primary reason for this is that I am, in truth, not the person you thought I was. I am not a football coach. I am not Brad Childress. I am...

Tobias Fünke. I know this may come as a shock to you, the players, and the fans, but it is the first bit of truth I have told since I began my open relationship with my wife, Lindsay Bluth Fünke. It has been a long road getting to this point, so before I explain my reasons for leaving the organization, let me explain how I came to be here.

In the summer after our open relationship began, I rededicated myself to what I knew was my calling: acting. I knew that, with the help of the famous Carl Weathers (who owes me a quarter million dollars despite his massive weekly fee of $10,000), I could make it as an actor. I could take on a role that no one had ever thought possible. I could even take on roles outside of fictitious productions and screenplays. I could do it in every way (which is incidentally what my piano tutor used to tell me as he stroked my balding head with his hairy bear hands), and I could do it in real life, too.

So that's what I set out to do: something unbelievably believable. Carl and I were driving along in out Volkswagen Beetle to Vernon, British Colombia in Canada for the taping of "Making the Cut," a reality hockey series in need of a hockey coach actor. It sounded as real as I could imagine. Think about it for a second: reality. What could be realer than this reality business? If I could do this, then I'd have everyone fooled.

On the drive, however, we broke down just outside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Instead of selling my mouth to lonely truckers so that Carl and I could make it the rest of the way, we decided to find something real to do in Minneapolis. It was a Sunday in late December of 2005, and a number of individuals wearing purple tights, pointed metal helmets and manly beards exited a bar just ahead of Carl. As I admired their garb, I asked them what had gotten them to such a frothy and excited state. After much ado about some game with an oblong ball that Carl seemed to know quite a bit about, we discovered that the Vikings organization was in need of a coach. A real live COACH! This was the same role that I had been headed to Canada for, but this was so much closer. All we needed now was to convince a man named Zygi that I was the one for the job.

So Carl and I fabricated a resume about coaching quarterbacks and some such nonsense that landed me an interview with Zygi himself. Although the interview didn't go so well at first, the conversation turned somehow to all the men that would be in the showers, and somehow during this discussion, I discovered that Zygi was a never-nude!

And just like that, I had the job. From psychiatrist to jobless actor to actor playing an NFL Head Coach, I had come full circle. I had made it.

After getting the job, it truly wasn't all too difficult to convince people that I was qualified. I yelled at players and patted their butts. I waited for them to be in between their football and street outfits before addressing them. No one really listened to what I had to say as I eyed their bulges and hairy, muscular chests, dreaming of times when I might work out with them and spot them as they did leg squats.

And somehow this has worked. The Vikings got a man they call Purple Jesus, and fans believe we can actually be a good team this year. Hunky Brett Favre is out of our division, and we may finally do well in the NFC North! But alas, you must go on without me.

The guilt has become too strong. The lie has become too hard to maintain. And I cannot bear to stare at these strapping naked men much longer lest I misbehave in ways that would deem me insane.

So please, Zygi, accept this resignation and know that it comes from a man with a now heavy heart. I'm sorry I wasn't who you thought I was. I'm sorry that I'm not Brad Childress. I can only be the man I'm destined to be, the actor I've worked to be. And that man is...

Tobias Fünke.