There's only one good thing about it

"Work," he shouted past me. "Work, you substandard industrial robots. Work, work, work, work." "Look at them hit," I said. "What a pretty sight. When Coach says hit, we hit. It's so simple." "It's not simple, Gary. Reality is constantly being interrupted. We're hardly even aware of it when we're out there. We perform like things with metal claws. But there's the other element. For lack of a better term I call it the psychomythical. That's a phrase I coined myself." "I don't like it. What does it refer to?" "Ancient warriorship," he said. "Cults devoted to pagan forms of technology. What we do out on that field harks back. It harks back. Why don't you like the term?" "It's vague and pretentious. It means nothing. There's only one good thing about it. Nobody could remember a stupid phrase like that for more than five seconds. See, I've already forgotten it." " "Wuuurrrrk. Wuuuurrrrrk." "Hobbs'll throw to Jessup now," I said. "He always goes to his tight end on third and short inside the twenty. He's like a retarded computer." "For a quarterback Hobbs isn't too bright. But you should have seen him last year, Gary. At least Creed's got him changing plays at the line. Last year it was all Hobbsie could do to keep from upchucking when he saw a blitz coming. Linebackers pawing at the ground, snarling at him. He didn't have what you might call a whole lot of poise." "Here comes Cecil off. Is that him?" "They got old Cecil. Looks like his shoulder." Cecil Rector, a guard, came toward the sideline and Roy Yellin went running in to replace him. The trainer popped Cecil's shoulder back into place. Then Cecil fainted. Bing strolled down that way to have a look at Cecil unconscious. Vern Feck, who coached the linebackers, started shouting at his people. Then he called the special units on to practice kickoS return and coverage. Bing headed slowly up to the 40yard line. He kicked off and the two teams converged, everybody yelling, bodies rolling and bouncing on the scant grass. When it was over Bing came back to the bench. His eyes seemed to belong to some small dark cave animal. "Something just happened," he said. "You look frightened."