Coaches: The Good, The Bad, The Mragh

Being involved with athletics, you run into a lot of assholes…especially if you play football and baseball. Assholes naturally gravitate to these two sports. You get a lot of guys who never played. Who read a book, had the means to get the correct degree and before ya know it, they are in charge of your world.

My high school football coach was by far the most grandiose phoney of all time. From what I had heard, he induced his wife so she wouldn’t have the baby the nite of the big rivalry game. The man taught me a lot about football. For knowledge, he was a really great coach. But he was a sketch person. He was never upfront with any of the players concerning where we stood and fuck, if you were playing the same position as his favorites, or someone who donated a lot of money to the program, you were shit outta luck! I’m sickened that there’s actually a facebook group that praises the man. There aren’t that many members, so I’m assuming it just must be sporadic “favorites” who he collected over there years. Here’s to telling me straight up that I’m in the hunt for the job and telling the local press something else, dip shit. Hope you’re having a good time being a sex ed teacher for the rest of your wretched days!

Sorry, I’m extremely bitter about football. It was my first love. No one worked harder than I did. I was the first one there, the last to leave. I was in competition with a good ol’ boy pothead who didn’t give a shit and was just terrible at football. My batting average in baseball was higher than his completion percentage every year. He’d throw stat lines up of 2-19, 7 yards. With stat lines like that, it’s obvious that I could have done better.

The assistant football coach couldn’t have been a better person. He was honest. He was a bit abrasive, but only if you deserved it and were dragging ass. It’s funny now that since the high school football program has turned into a diva/country club program, the kids don’t like him! No shit! He’s a man’s man.

My high school baseball coach was a fantastic character. He was rough around the edges , been divorced several time, and I feared him! At the time, I thought he was the most crotchedy old man. Well, as much as I bumped heads with him, looking back on it, he wasn’t such a bad guy at all compared to what I was going to get into!

My summer coach was the shit! This guy was pure ballplayer! He was a lefty relief specialist in the Boston minor league system! So he had played, he was great with us kids! He could relate to us. I fell outta touch with him a while back, but the guy has always been a good person. He was severely disappointed that I played DIII baseball. He always saw the talent and desire I had. The problem is, he was a pitcher…so it was hard for him to mentor me properly.

College baseball. Wow, what a mistake. I would have been better just trying to walk on somewhere worthwhile, but my father insisted that I go claim my academic scholarship money at a prestigious private institution and play all four years! What a mistake! The school itself turned my life into an addiction b/c I hated it so much. I got no support from my coach, who was all smiley-glad hands when I’d visit or call him on the phone. First day I got there, I asked him for the key to the equipment room so I could do some work. He gave me a glare like, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

It was miserable playing for him. He was a helluva recruiter, which is why he’s an alltime winner in the books. However, he didn’t know shit about baseball. Never could make a crucial decision on a pitcher. Never knew when to bunt. Didn’t understand basic hitting physics. But hey, somebody ponied up the money for him to go to grad school when he was younger, which automatically qualifies him to be a coach.

My next college coach was a great guy. A very odd guy, though. He was the most ripped dude of all time. I mean, this guy could put any Greco-Roman statue to shame! He knew his shit on conditioning and baseball, but all in all…the fact that I was a fatty was a major barrier in our relationship. I was sorry for being a fatty, but at the time, the previous coach had already sucked my love for the game out of me.

Well, so much for role models. The bad coaches far outweighed the good. The were bad coaches and even worse, horrible people. My father would say about these bad coaches, “They’re just the kind of people that shouldn’t be around young people.” How true! These guys were dream killers. They were in it for themselves and they didn’t care who they hurt along the way. They had to be smiley-glad hands with hidden agendas…just the most wretched kind of evil!

To be an enlightened coach, you have to be able to relate to your players. You have to be knowledgeable, know when to push the buttons. YOU HAVE TO BE HONEST. YOU HAVE TO BE.