Matt Hayes

He's making millions from an NFL team that fired him. He'll make millions more returning to the college game.

All that for a guy who walked away too soon from the Miami Hurricanes and not fast enough from the Cleveland Browns.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear Butch Davis was Bear Bryant. Dress him up in houndstooth and call it a day. For two weeks, we've heard how Davis is a perfect fit for this job and that job and maybe even that other job that isn't open but would be if that president knew he could get his grubby paws on Butch. No job is too big or too small. Butch can handle it all. And frankly, I've got a few ideas.

I've got a problem with my daughter's little league coach. Dude likes to play "everyone" so no one goes home unhappy. Everyone? We're not here to please "everyone," coach. Butch knows that.

True story: Davis once wrote me a letter a few years ago, thanking me for taking to task those sissy Arizona players upset with coach John Mackovic's drill sergeant ways. Said he was "glad to see someone who understood accountability and responsibility" standing up for coaches.

I don't care about that crap; I just want someone who wins.

Davis won 50 games in six years at Miami and made a career for some guy named Coker. Yeah, Butch imploded in the NFL, but so did Holtz, Spurrier, Erickson, Saban and — really, that's old news now.

All I know is Butch apparently invented the forward pass. Or at least cold water.

Want to win in Iraq? Fire Rummy and get Butch in there. He does have a track record of cleaning up cesspools.

Forget about multilateral talks with North Korea. Just throw Butch in a room with Kim Jong Il and in a few hours, he'd have the whacky dictator belting out "The Star Spangled Banner."

Max Mayfield, the National Hurricane Center director, is retiring after a long, distinguished career chasing storms. Who among us thinks Butch couldn't whip that sad sack group into shape?

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These are the same guys who predicted a "very active" hurricane season for 2006. Then I went and blew $500 on a generator.

In a related matter, Butch could spend his spare time coaching that team in Coral Gables. Like he can't multitask.

Look, even the specter of Butch wields a heavy hammer. The other day, my garbage man refused to take any trash that wasn't properly stored in the undersized receptacle provided by the city. So I ran after the truck, screaming, "Don't make me get Butch Davis involved!"

The gal behind the counter at my local Starbucks, she has an attitude. You know, one of those perpetual hey-man, decaf-isn't-going-to-help-you looks. So I asked for her boss the other day and told him in no uncertain terms that I know Butch Davis. And if this nonsense continues, I have his cell number and I'm not afraid to use it.

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My financial adviser recently pushed some "sleeper" mutual fund on me and already I'm well into negative return numbers on it. Since Butch is getting paid millions to not coach the Browns, I've got a feeling he knows something about financial planning.

No job is too big or too small. Hey, Butch: A-Rod blows in the clutch. Any chance you can play third base for the Yankees?