The Replacement Coach and the Provisional Administrator

“There any asswipe on your side?”
“Hey pal, why the hell didn’t you check before taking a—wait a sec! PA, is that you?”
[giggle] “Oh you! I was trying to disguise my voice!”
“Never mind that—what the hell are you doing in the men’s room?”
“It’s quicker.”
“But you can’t be in here.”
“It’s quicker.”
“It’s not for you!”
“It’s quicker.”
“Never mind. Just—”
[ppppp ppppp pppplack]
“—What the hell was that?”
“Sorry—poultry.”
“Whoa! Smells like roadkill. What did you eat-a raw chicken?”
[giggle] “Come on. It’s not supposed to be, like, lemony fresh, now is it?”
“Jeez, I got to get out of here. We have a game in 15 minutes.”
“You’re a tennis coach.”
“So?”
“I’m no expert, but I remember them being called matches.”
“Here’s a match: your face and my—“
“Just give me some TP. Please.”
“OK, here.”
[ppppppppppplllaaaacckkkkk]
“On second thought, never mind.”
“Oh come on RC!”
[ppp ppp ppplack ppplack]
“Forget it. I’m not putting my hand any closer to that crapfest than necessary.”
“Well what am I supposed to use?”
“Got any turds?”
“Uh, of course.”
“There yuh go.”
“I’m supposed to wipe my ass with a turd?”
“Why not?”
“Well, just off the top of my head, it would seem that I would be augmenting, as it were, the very substance I’m trying to remove, thereby—”
“Just do it!”
“OK, OK. Keep your pants on.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, figure of speech.”
“Look, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that if you really believe something is true, then it is. It’s called visuali- victuals-, vaginal-... It doesn’t matter what it’s called. Just grab the turd and start wiping!”
“Fine! I’ll do it! Never let it be said that I won’t do exactly as I’m told!”
[splash]
“Uh…PA…you OK?”
“This is icky. It fell apart in my hands.”
“Hmm, sounds like you need more protein in your diet. Try a Power Bar.”
[plop]
“Oh yuck!”
“Now what?”
“I made a bigger mess than I started with.”
“You didn’t believe, did you?”
“I did believe!”
“But did you really believe? ‘Cause if you had really believed that turd was toilet paper, you’d have wiped your ass clean.”
“I did, I did believe! I swear!”
“Just get dressed and get out of here.”
“But what about the skid marks up and down my vertical smile?”
“What about them?”
“For one thing, they smell.”
“Nobody will notice.”
“They won’t?”
“Not if you want it bad enough!”
“Oh, OK. Thanks!”
[flush]

The Lost Writings of Shakespeare

The Bard’s early attempts at coachspeak:


Strut your effort 110%
And failure ne’er we’ll meet.

We toil to take
What the defense bequeaths us.

When others cry havoc
Must you then dig deep.

Mine preference is for luckiness over goodness.

Rough-hewn this contest will unfold;
So strap it on and play nobly as hell.

Losing grandly is not a sin.
But neither is to win ugly.

Play flat and fortune’s fool shall you be.

Oft’ times ‘tis less the skill of the warrior
Than whose desire is greatest.

Aggression can be but a shadow of life.
Allow thus the contest to come to you.

Be not a coward in pursuing greatness,
But instead be all you wish to be.

Play together as a band of brothers:
Battle ye with alacrity
And chemistry.

Attempt not to grasp unreachable stars
Rather, play within thine own self.