Manning: You want answers?
Sorgi: I think I'm entitled to them.
Manning: You want answers?
Sorgi: I want the truth!
Manning: You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has endzones. And those endzones have to be attacked by men with laser, rocket arms. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Dungy?
I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Vinatieri and you curse the officials. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Vinatieri's shank, while tragic, probably cost us the game. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, probably cost us the game...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about in the locker room, you want me in that huddle. You need me in that huddle.
We use words like abrupt, simulate, offsides...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent breaking rules. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very salary cap I destroy, then questions the manner in which I destroy it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a football and throw a pass. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
Sorgi: Did you order the simulated snap?
Manning: I did the job Colt fans sent me to do.
Sorgi: Did you order the simulated snap?
Manning: You're goddamn right I did!!
