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Every NFL franchise, every college, every high school, every grade-school team in every city in America is looking for the Perfect Football Coach ... even though such a person has never been found, and probably never will be.
At Page 2, our ambitions are much more modest. What we are interested in is the Perfectly Awful Coach. However, we are not going to waste our time -- or yours, dear reader -- looking for someone who does not exist.
No, we are going to do what we always do at Page 2 when confronted with a difficult task: We are going to make something up -- Page 2's Coach Frankenstein. And, as always, we are asking you to help.
 At right is an enhanced photo of our CF, made from the conflated body parts of real-life NFL coaches, all, in their own way, annoying. Study our composite photo, then try to guess who contributed what, with a little help from the clues below.
When you are finished, click here to see if you properly identified the NFL coaches we used to build Frankenstein.
The brain and ego: "I'm great! Not because of the Super Bowl. Anybody can win one of those. It's that HBO series I starred in. My agent tells me I set a record for average face time -- per episode -- on a recurring HBO drama, beating the old record set by Tony Soprano."
The eyes: "No matter how hard I look, I can't see what's wrong with my team. In the past three seasons, I've brought in two Pro Bowl offensive linemen, an All-Pro receiver and a solid quarterback. Plus, I change offensive coordinators every year -- but coordinators all look alike to me. Still, my team doesn't seem to be improving, and my eyes will probably be looking for work come January."
The nose: "Some observers, including at least two sure-fire Hall of Famers, felt I stuck my nose where it didn't belong -- like who roomed with whom, who sat with whom, and even who said what to whom. But that's the way I've always done it, and I'm not going to change now."
The mouth: "People who say I talk too much really don't know diddly-poo. I always coach good, but those blankety-blank players are a blankety-blank disgrace, especially my blankety-blank QB, who better learn to complete more blankety-blank passes to his own team than the opposition, blankety-blank him."
The torso: "Talk about fashion victims, I need a wardrobe makeover as bad as my owner needs another facial makeover. Plus, some people have questioned my heart lately because of my reluctance to 'go for it.' "
The hands: "I left a team that had reached the Super Bowl twice to get my hands on some real power. Now, I've got my hands everywhere. I've revamped the squad's roster entirely and brought in my kind of guys. So why don't we seem to be getting any better?"
The feet: "I always wanted to see as much of the world as I could, which accounts for my tendency to walk out just when things are going good. But how ironic is it that I kept winding up in the same place -- New York."
See how we built Coach Frankenstein
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