Buttermaker - FTG

 A funny thing happened this weekend while i stood on the sidelines coaching my merry band of maniacs... there was a point in the game where Disaster was at the free throw line and one of the referees walked over to me, we see a lot of the same refs so you get to know them a bit, this particular ref walked over smiling and said, i don't understand why everyone hates you... you're my favorite coach and i think you do a great job. I laughed and said, thanks man, you know i don't get it either. He then said, i mean i know why they hate me, i'm wearing this striped shirt (pointing to his referees uniform), to which i replied, i think it has something to do with jealousy because we're so damn good looking! He laughed and said i knew there was a reason i liked you. Needless to say this isn't the first time i've had refs come over to me and bullshit and laugh during a game and i'm sure it infuriates the other coaches but maybe they should take a lesson... i'm always respectful when i question a call and often smile and joke with the officials during the game. These guys take enough shit and the last place they want to take it from is some self important asshole coaching middle school kids. One could say i understand the game and human nature... something i learned slinging gear back in the day... 

If we were pointing out what El Kono does well on the sideline working the refs would be one of them. The other main difference between our hero and the other coaches is the fact i'm really good at making adjustments during the game to help my team and luckily i have a group of kids who understand (for the most part) what i'm telling them and know how to implement it. Granted if the brain trust at the Association would have listened to me and given me 10 kids instead of 13, all of which have to play at least a quarter, i'd be fucking undefeated. 

In the warms his old man's heart category Disaster is easily recognized as one of the best players in the league. He runs the team when he's in the game and is now the recipient of many double teams and the other team's best defender, he's also become almost automatic from the free throw line in the fourth quarter of close games going 13 of 14 from the line in the last 3 minutes of games. This past weekend the coach put his most aggressive defender on him, a quick and small African-American kid who was physical and talked a lot of shit. I loved it. Later i told Disaster that he's a known commodity in this league and what teams do to him is a sign of respect. Having grown up playing this game and playing competitively into my early thirties, i understand the white kid is a minority in this game and has to prove himself against the black kids. It's why i get Disaster into gyms and games where he's one of the few white kids on the court. Our league isn't like that but out here in the burbs these kids aren't exposed to the style of play kids from the city grow up playing, the grit and grind along with the showmanship. So as the kid was bodying Disaster down the court, harassing him and almost stealing the ball, i pulled him over and explained to him what he needed to do, a legal move called the rip where you use the ball and arms, particularly the elbows, to legally create space. The ball came in from the side and Disaster was right by our bench, the sideline a foot behind him and the little pit bull right up on him, i said rip it and Disaster executed a perfect move catching said defender in the face and then dribbling by him as the defender screamed and yelled about getting popped. I told Disaster he needed to get used to shit like this because this is how the game is played when you're a good player, other teams do whatever they can to stop you and disrupt your game either mentally or physically. As the kid jawed at him Disaster kept his cool, playing smart... early in the fourth quarter he fouled the kid out.  

Back to Buttermaker... i've done an excellent job of hiding my criminal past to the denizens of the burbs but as i've stated here many times before, you can take the boy out of the hood but you can't take the hood out of the boy... it goes back to the coach of Shitbag Township, now the Dudeist in me says to let it go, to abide man, it's no big deal... but the hoodlum in me says what in the motherfucking world does this fucking chump think he's doing? This guy's been prancing around with a silver spoon up his ass since the day he fell out the womb, he's the kind of dickhead who back in the day would complain about the price of weed or say something like, "how bout a heavy sack there buddy?" while talking about his trust fund, the dick who pretends to be your buddy but would roll over on you at the first sight of John Q. Law, the sort of fuck-o who would give up his dealer for a dime bag... in the day i treated them fair but they never got anything extra that's for damn sure, i often wanted to ask idiots like that if they went to a restaurant and asked for free shit every time they sat down, Shitbag coach reminds me of one of those types...

The thing i've been working on letting go is this burning desire to body slam his scrawny ass to the hardwood floor and ask him, "is that a foul?", just to make sure he understands that he's the hunted not the hunter... sure he may have some swanky career, drive some fancy car, but in the end i'd kick the living shit out of him and he knows it and it takes every ounce restraint in my being to not act on my Cro-Magnon impulses....

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Which brings me to this current weekend (sometimes i'm slow getting shit posted)... in the last game of the regular season we got to play Shitbag Township again. As per his usual smarmy self Coach Shitbag ambled over before the game to say thanks for moving the game cuz he had plans last weekend (Super Bowl weekend) to which i replied don't thank me i wanted to play it, the Association made the change. Then of course the game started. We got off to our usual slow start, went down 4-0 before getting our act together. We were up 5 at the half and that was with some absolute bullshit calls and playing a little too loose with the ball. By this time, in our own gym, i had some douchebag shitbag dad screaming at me, to which i actually shot back, we can talk outside after the game... funny thing, as the game was winding down he kept getting closer and closer to the door to make his getaway. There was a grandfather who started screaming at the ref (which i don't blame him for cuz the one guy was awful), also from Shitbag Township, which made the ref actually stop the game and tell him to shut up or he'd get tossed. Then came the play. 

Fourth quarter around two minutes left. I told me team to pull it out and run the old Four Corners, an offense that is both a stall but also opens up the floor for easy baskets. The ball came to Disaster who seeing the opening drove down the lane, went up for his layup and got clotheslined coming down hard on his tailbone and hip. Disaster to his credit bounced right up, went to the line and swished both free throws... a hearty fuck you to Shitbag Township. It was a flagrant foul and the kid should have been ejected with Disaster getting two free throws and us getting the ball back. Coach Shitbag, who whined through the whole game about fouls, who had a meltdown when his kid fell cuz he was out of control and hurt his hand and then mouthed of at me during the last meeting was suddenly silent. I, my dear readers was not, i turned and yelled directly at him, "What? don't have anything to say about that, that was filthy!! no comment Karen? " At this point i was furious and had to remind myself to calm down before i did kick the shit out of somebody because i was a bit Vince Vega, my racecar was in the red. Our pressure being the key we wore them down and destroyed them in the second half going up 16 points with a couple minutes left. Game Over. Shitbag Township finished the season 1-11, last place. We are 11-1, regular season champs and the #1 seed in the tournament. 

The best thing... Shitbag Township aka Trumpland, had to watch my team, with two African American kids, one Asian American kid and one Indian American kid (India) beat their ass. I had 7 kids who played absolutely lights out, the African American kid, the nicest kid you'll ever meet yet tough as they come, manhandled them, blocking six shots, rebounding like a monster, playing great defense. The Asian kid the played physical and tough coming up with four steals while battling. The Indian kid scored 19 as they keyed on Disaster and left him open, Disaster had 10, played stellar defense and showed Shitbag Township just what tough is... we may get them one more time if they can win the play in game of the tournament and while i wouldn't mind beating their ass again i'm a bit tired of the fucking assholes. Only two weeks left in my coaching career. My merry band of maniacs are now 14-2 this season helping run Buttermaker's career record to 43-13. Not bad for a stoner. Now on to the playoffs.