I am STOIC. I am IRON. I am Mike Nolan, and I a master of perception.tonight we kick off another season, and somehow I still have a job. i owe it all to my daily regimen. i wake up every morning and do fifty squints, one hundred lip curls, two hundred snapping neck turns. then i'll stay in place for about an hour, imagining i'm a department store mannequin. this is what it takes to win at this level.the press keeps pestering me about the quarterback situation. i don't even know what the fuck a quarterback is. they tell me we're starting some new irish guy or something. whatever. i LOOK confident, that's all that matters. my suit is pressed, my shades are armani. they can blast me in print all they want. the cameras will tell a different story.the raiders are my favorite team to play because of their logo. even with the menacing eyepatch, the dual swords, that pirate face is so calm, so serene. pensive like a buddhist. even his chin strap is loose. huh. well, it might work for players, but that's not the face of a successful head coach.yet i think sometimes by virtue of my gaze, that i myself am developing a kind of buddhist power. perhaps if i peer into a reporter's face long enough, gaze into the lakes of his eyes, i might someday get a peek into his soul. maybe then i can say something profound. maybe then they'll stop asking me so many questions about football. but no matter. as long as i keep looking forward, peering stolidly into nothing, i can steer us to the promise land.