No, no, I don't watch football. The last time I tried watching was the last Super Bowl. The problem I have is, you know, the graphic nature of my imagination; when I watch and see them meeting head onto head, helmet onto helmet, what flashes through my mind is what's going on in their brains. It's like torture to me.

In the middle of a play, I go crazy and don't realize what I'm doing. I'll snap back to reality and I realize, 'Hey, I just ripped that boy's helmet off,' or, 'I'm over here twisting this guy's knee.

I get asked one question a lot: 'What celebrity encounter would render you starstruck?' The answer is simple - anyone who's ever strapped on a Redskins helmet, much less coached them to three Super Bowls.

'Mars Needs Moms' was motion capture, where you walk into a space that's essentially a black box with cameras everywhere. It was so technical. You have these mandibles with cameras on your face and a helmet, and you have to hit certain marks. You couldn't shoot this stuff without the green-screen aspect.

Pretty much all the drivers I get on with, at least to say 'Hi' and have a conversation. But when the helmet's on, you don't care who it is. You have no sympathy: someone blows an engine in front of you, if it means you gain a position, then you're smiling.

I know that I'll joke around to the last minute I get in the car. But once the helmet's on - it's sort of a cliche, but it's true - it's quite symbolic that that is 'go time,' and I'm ready to have some fun and be bad while I do it.