From ESPN.com:
The lights go down and McNair calls out, "Can you feel it? Do you feel it? Are you feeling me? We're coming together. Feel your connection. Right now. We're the Trojans. Right now. It's motherf---in' game day. We're the motherf---in' Trojans."
The room offers up whoops and hell-yeahs. Guys are sumo stomping and clapping in rhythm. "What time is it?" McNair asks. The answer comes in unison, the voice of the many speaking as one. "It's war time, let's take it outside! It's war time, let's take it outside!" It becomes a chant and a dance; every player and coach bouncing, bees in a hive, punks in the mosh pit. The pitch rises. Watson and Carroll and Anno and Seto are shoulder- and chest-bumping with the kids. I feel the floor sag and spring in time with the dance. I hear my shirt sleeve zip-zip against the paneling on the back wall. Truth be told, I fear for my safety just a little bit. McNair stretches his arms out, palms down, and they all bring it down to a whisper, a hum. "It looks like chaos," Carroll says later. "But it's ritual. We know exactly what we're doing when."
The room is waiting on McNair now, waiting on the next signal. "Let me ask you this," he says. "Let me ask you ... are we ready?" Somewhere deep in the center of the circle the answer begins. "We ready. We ready. We ready." It's a blood oath uttered beneath the breath at first, but it's rising, each chorus louder than the one before, until again the team is jumping and again the room is bouncing. "We ready! WE READY!" It stays that way, alive, on fire, for more than a minute until McNair steps down off his chair. Another signal. The room winds down. Last thumps and pushes. Last hosannas. Roth flips the lights back on. Carroll leads the way out the door, flushed and smiling. "That's how we do it."
Must read story on Pete Carroll. How lucky are we to have him?!
