In Glory Road and We Are Marshall coaches are wonderful people. In the real world, however, they're these guys.

<strong>2. Billy Martin, New York Yankees</strong>- He threatened to fine any pitcher who wouldn't plunk opposing batters. He called his boss, the equally charming George Steinbrenner, "a fat bastard." He fought his players (Eddie Whitson famously broke his arm), opposing fans (outside the old Tiger Stadium), a cab driver (who stated that soccer was superior to baseball), officials from other teams (traveling secretaries, no less), barflies in Anaheim and Baltimore, bouncers in Texas, and—gasp!—an innocent marshmallow salesman. And he drank. Oh boy, did he drink. Martin is to rageaholic, alcoholic managers/coaches what Bill Haley was to clocks, and the rocking around thereof.

<strong>1. John McGraw, New York Giants</strong>- In 33 years as a manager, McGraw won 2,763 games and three World Series. He also, in no particular order, regularly pulled knives on his own and opposing players; engaged in a naked locker-room brawl with "Wee Willie" Keeler (no, the nickname didn't stem from this incident); got popped for illegal gambling; invested in pool halls with mobster Arnold Rothstein; locked umpires out of the Polo Grounds after they blew a call the day before; and, in an enormously successful attempt to stir up the locals, dubbed Cincinnati "the home of the huns" (in doing so, he unwittingly anticipated the lawless and Godless 2005-2006 Bengals). While Ty Cobb may have held the title of Worst Cocksucker Ever to Lace Up the Cleats, McGraw would have made a fine Deputy Worst Cocksucker… That is, if the two sworn blood enemies didn't regularly threaten to gut one another every time they crossed paths.

<strong>3. Bob Knight, Indiana University and Texas Tech University</strong>- Over the years, Bob Knight—don't call him Bobby, or he'll suffocate you with one of his form-fitting sweaters—has set a high standard for low behavior. He's hurled chairs across the court, bitched out Hoosier cheerleaders (ostensibly, for cheering), faux-whipped a black player, strafed a close friend during a hunting trip, instructed women that "if rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it," and got into a heated argument with a Texas Tech chancellor at—wait for it—a gourmet grocery store. But gosh, he graduates most of his players, so all of the above is totally moot. Totally.

<strong>10. Jackie Sherrill, Mississippi State</strong>- In the world of coaching and managing, there's good enthusiasm (Bill Cowher's affectionate smooches with Joey Porter and Kordell Stewart) and bad enthusiasm (Tennessee coach Bruce Pearl painting his chest and rooting on the school's women's team from the student section). Alas, Sherrill single-handedly created a third category—PETA-baiting enthusiasm—when, prior to a 1992 game against the Texas Longhorns, he arranged to have a calf castrated on the practice field. Kudos to Sherrill for having found a unique way to help players visualize their fear of being cut.

<strong>9. Mike Price, University of Alabama (very, very temporarily)</strong>- After being hired to coach the Crimson Tide, Price kicked it Michael Irvin–style at a charity golf tournament. Following a beverage or three and a strip-club visit, he and one of his new special naked friends checked into a hotel, whereupon the stripper commenced charging up a storm (seriously, could you spend $1,000 on "breakfast" at a Pensacola, Florida, Crowne Plaza if you tried?). Price denied having boinked the girlie, though he acknowledged that he was "too drunk to really know" how

<strong>8. Eddie Sutton, Oklahoma State</strong>- Coaches from Jon Gruden to Eric Musselman to Dennis Erickson have been popped for DUI in recent years. Sutton, however, blew a .22 blood alcohol rating after his auto/pinball adventure (one report notes that he "swerved across four lanes of traffic, slammed into the back of another car, then crashed into a tree"). A .22… Estimating that he weighed around 180 pounds at the time, that means he knocked back roughly 11 drinks in an hour, thus placing him in the exalted, soused company of Andre

<strong>7. George O'Leary, Notre Dame</strong>- We have less problem with his résumé-tweaking—after all, our current C.V. notes that we invented nylon—than with the unimaginative way in which he tweaked it. A master's from NYU? A multiletter undergrad football career at the University of New Hampshire? Bah. That he didn't work something involving religion in there—you know, like a summer internship with Cardinal O'Connor—is probably what got the Jesus-lovin' Notre Damers suspicious.

<strong>6. Joe Cullen, Detroit Lions</strong>- There are many ways that one might achieve professional notoriety as a defensive line coach. Your unit can lead the league in sacks, for instance, or limit opposing runners to three yards per carry. Or you can get arrested for pants-free cruising through the Wendy's drive-through and follow that up with a drunk driving bust a week later. Whichever.

<strong>5. Wally Backman, Arizona Diamondbacks</strong>- A few days after Backman was hired to manage the D'backs, The New York Times uncovered a few chapters that had been omitted from his life story. You know, the one about assaulting his wife and one of her friends, and the one about his bankruptcy filing, and the one about driving all drunky-wunky. The team hadn't done its homework, but nonetheless immediately moved to fire Backman after learning of the transgressions. Worse, the previously undisclosed domestic-abuse arrest violated the terms of his drunk-driving probation, and he ended up serving 10 days in jail. In conclusion, it's safe to say that nobody on the planet dislikes the words "due diligence" or "background check" quite as much as Wally Backman.

<strong>4. Dave Bliss, Baylor University</strong>- It's sorta hard to joke about this one. When one of his players (Patrick Dennehy) was allegedly killed by another (Carlton Dotson, currently awaiting trial in Texas), Bliss went out of his way to smear the departed. An assistant secretly recorded him telling players to claim that money Dennehy made selling drugs, rather than under-the-table payments from the coaching staff, had paid for the player's tuition. All that just to save Baylor's basketball program? Georgetown's program, maybe. Kansas', definitely. But Baylor's? Bliss has a lot to answer for, in this world and the next.