Unlike my owner, I'm under no obligation to ever speak to you (bleep)ing people, but just this once, I'm going to make an exception.

Let's keep the introductions short. I am a cat, my name is Schaap, my owner is Coach Robert Montgomery Knight, and you're probably not smart enough to understand half of what I'm going to say. But I'm going to go ahead with this letter as if you weren't brain-dead, because I have something to say.

I guess I should explain my name first. Yes, it's Schaap, and yes, I was named after Jeremy Schaap. Coach Robert Montgomery Knight got me back in 2000, and he named me Schaap because his intention was to take me to his house and beat me with a 9-iron while screaming, "ARE YOU FINISHED INTERRUPTING ME, JEREMY?"

But fortunately for me, on the way home from the shelter, I had an opportunity to redeem myself. As Bob walked towards his home, some stranger said to him, "Hey, Knight!" And I chewed my way through the pet carrier, and I clawed that son of a (bleep)'s eyes out. Bob decided not to kill me with a 9-iron, and the afore-mentioned rude bastard has been blind for about eight years now. See, that story's got a happy ending. And people say I don't have a sense of humor.

Anyway, back to the letter. Specifically, I'd like to address Digger Phelps. Now, Coach Robert Montgomery Knight is too polite to ever say this, but Phelps, you are a (bleep)damn clown. Actually, let me take that back, because a clown had the ability to entertain me when I was five years old. To call you a clown, Phelps, would be an insult to the proud and hard-working clowns of the world.

Do you realize, Phelps, that the whole foundation of your career as a broadcaster is that you have a highlighter that matches your tie? Does that make you feel proud? For (bleep)'s (bleep)ing sake, Phelps, please, at some point, feel free to say something that lets people know that you used to coach basketball. Last night, I -- hold on one second here -- KAREN! I KNOW YOU CAN (BLEEP)ING HEAR ME, KAREN! I'M GONNA GIVE YOU FIVE (BLEEP)DAMN SECONDS TO FILL MY BOWL WITH MILK, OR I'M GONNA WAIT 'TILL YOU FALL ASLEEP, AND I'M GONNA CLAW YOUR (BLEEP)ING TONGUE OUT, YOU GOT THAT? AND IT BETTER NOT BE ANY OF THAT (BLEEP)DAMN SOY MILK HORSE(BLEEP). DO YOU (BLEEP)ING HEAR ME, YOU FILTHY (WORD THAT ISIAH THOMAS ONCE TRIED TO DESCRIBE)?! -- sorry about that.

Back to Phelps. Digger, if you're reading this, I'd like you to consider killing yourself before you head back to the Bristol studios tonight. People are complaining that Coach Robert Montgomery Knight was uninspiring and perhaps a little bland last night, but that's your fault, Phelps. You and Coach Robert Montgomery Knight go way back, and he's afraid to embarrass you, so he felt like he had to limit his brilliance.

A game ends, Phelps, and you'll say something like, "Well, this team won because this one guy played really well." Really, Phelps? If I understand what you're saying correctly, that's (bleep)damn brilliant. That may be Tony-winning analysis, Digger.

So Coach Robert Montgomery Knight leaves his brilliance in his pocket, only because he didn't want the people of America to pick up on what a sorry son of a (bleep) you are, Phelps. He's that nice. I'm not. Because of you, Phelps, the public gets cheated, ESPN gets cheated, I get cheated, and worst of all, Coach Robert Montgomery Knight gets cheated.

By the way, we get it, Digger -- you played a zone, and I didn't. You know why that is? Because zones are for big, wet, (bleep)s. How many national championships did your zone win you? Oh, that's right. I guess you better kiss my -- hold on again -- KAREN! YOU ILLITERATE (BLEEP)! MY LITTER BOX IS A (BLEEP)DAMN MESS. IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR WORTHLESS (BLEEP) DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW AND CLEAN IT OUT, I WILL FIND A NEW LITTER BOX, AND THAT NEW LITTER BOX WILL BE YOUR GRANDSON'S (BLEEP)ING HAIR. I (BLEEP) YOU NOT. I WILL (BLEEP) AND (BLEEP) IN THE BOY'S HAIR, IF YOU DON'T GET DOWN HERE AND CLEAN THIS UP RIGHT (BLEEP)ING NOW -- sorry about that.

I better just go. Someone needs straightening out. Tune back into ESPN tonight, watch Coach Robert Montgomery Knight, and maybe you won't spend the rest of your day being quite as dumb as you are right now.

Sincerely yours,
Schaap

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