Inspirational coaches

[Argyle]

Who inspired you to take your game to the next level? There have been many great coaches in the history of sport. Who is the greatest of all time? Vince Lombardi? Don Shulla? Scotty Bowman? Don Cherry? Sid? Who got the most out of their players???

Perhaps is was Jules Winnfeild.

 

[Sir M]

A night out with the Inspirational 2004 BC Men's coach of the year:

The setting: Buffalo Bill’s Night Club, Whistler, British Columbia 0135 A.M., Sunday, November 28, 2004, twelve hours (lots of time) until Peg’s kick-off against Sporting, and a full ten hours into everybody’s darling Shorty’s stag party.

His stomach warmed by the evening’s nine minty Jagermeister shots, the 1.5 litre bottle of Ernest and Julio Gallo Chardonnay, his mind racing from the accompanying 4 caffeine laced cans of Red Bull, a generous pinch of Skoal long cut in his cheek, a pretty full bladder, leaning against the heavy mahogany north side railing, considering relieving himself, he squinted through the smoky darkness, every so often interrupted by flashes of red, green, yellow and white, the devil whispering mischief in his ear, the Coach of the Year caught a glimpse, wait, …who was that? At that table…there…on the other side! The heavy thumping of Depeche Mode in his ears, and a hint of Dolce & Gabbana on his neck (hey, if your roomie is going to leave it in his shaving kit in the hotel room, it means he wants to share, right?)

Then, another flash, but this time he got a real, good look…and his heart jumped. There she was: a full six feet this one, and, oh, a vision. Long, honey-soft, flaxen hair, tumbling down onto her wide shoulders, her big, soft, round hips tightly wrapped in Diesel jeans, Louis Vuitton handbag at her side, a soft pink mohair sweater not quite disguising her ample bosom, ever so slightly heaving up with each breath, nervously discussing “The Botox Diaries” with her two best girlfriends over some Crantinis…

But he looked away. He loved her, but he didn’t have the courage to tell her so. Staring down at his little shoes, as he shuffled over to his pals Shorty, Eagles, and the other lads, the Coach felt a little bit sad. She would never know the way he felt…maybe he should just go grab that wallet that that drunk guy had so foolishly left on the table over there…

And all of a sudden, the music changed….the crowded dance floor suddenly throbbed to life. He lifted his head to look...

Oh my, she was graceful! Despite her 190 pounds, the dance floor was his love’s La Scala…and in her three inch heel Prada sling backs, she must have been six-five anyway! He had to muster the courage…he had to! Luckily the idiots at the table on the left had just ordered a round of “Broken Down Golf Carts” and weren’t paying attention…Coach of the Year reached through, grabbed a shot and downed it, firing the empty glass over his left shoulder into the crowd as he walked away. But still, his stomach was flipping. Jager…he must have Jager!

He made his way to the bar, elbowing his way through the crowd…and then it happened, like magic, now drifting out of the speakers…”Life is Life”, yes “Life- is- Life”, washed over the crowd, and the little Maradona burst into dance!

He couldn’t help it, he was drawn to her. His heart full of love and “La-da-da-da-da-da” in his ears, he made his way through the crowd…managing a grope of one breast and two bottoms on the way. And now it was all impulse and music…he approached her, and his best opening line just leapt out, so naturally…

”OOUUWWW!”

And the big beauty responded. Her hands in the air, her eyes closed, her soft honey tresses cascading over her Bro-ish forehead and large Roman nose, her curvy hips undulating to the samba beat, she lazily opened her big brown eyes and smiled down at her little friend, her new dance partner…

And I will stop there...

 

[suckit]

WhAt ThE HelL wAs ThAt?
continue the story...

 

[Sir M]

The Coach of the Year's adventure will be continued...

But a foreshadowing...she didn't "suckit"

 

[Keeper]

Who inspired you to take your game to the next level?

No one. I'm still at the same level.

 

[knvb]

Sir M, that is simply fantastic...


Can't wait for chapter II,

KNVB

 

[Ballbaby]

Wow. Whistler? I remember dancing with a short Italian guy once.

 

[Sir M]

The adventures of the Inspirational 2004 Men's Coach of the Year, continued:

Sunday, November 29, 2004, 1415 hrs, Hastings Bowl South, Pegasus A vs Sporting. Sir M, along with a few fellow Peg alum, headed over to Hastings Bowl to see of the A side get back on track . The Coach of the Year had managed to stay out of jail and, his voice not much more than a raspy whisper, can of Kokanee in hand, was directing his side to this year a rare victory over Sporting. The following conversation ensued:

Coach of the Year: "Sir M! I was with the biggest bird in Whistler last night, six-five!… (noting his manager’s less than amused look, realizing that he had "forgotten" to show up to play in the Peg over 30 sides game this morning, leaving the old boys with 12 and as a result dropping the 1st points of the year)...uh...how’d we do today?”

Sir M: “2-2. What happened?”

Coach of the Year: “2-2??... you’re kidding...really?”

Sir M: “Yeah we had one of those games, you know. So what happened with the tall bird?”

Coach of the Year (better mood now, big grin on his face): “I was dancing with this six foot five bird, really, my face (indicating breast level) was right there!”

Sir M: “Great, so what happened?”

Coach of the Year (sheepishly): “Well, I got kicked out…”

Sir M: “Out of the bar? Why, what about the big bird?”

Coach of the Year: “Yeah, out of the bar, I was dancing with this bird and my face was right there, you know, and then I figured I’d adjust her ‘bass and treble’…”

Sir M: “COTYear!!!...you tuned in Tokyo?”

Coach of the Year: “Yep, both nipples, and then the f**kers kicked me out for no reason…”

Sir M: “Fcukers…anyone in jail?”

Coach of the Year (proudly grinning): “No, not this time!”

Ah, love…

(Based on a true story, sort of ).

 

[Dude]

Sounds like a night of winging for Notty.

BTW...that wasn't the biggest bird in Whistler...

 

[Ballbaby]

That is very inspirational SirM. COTY is a fine example for all of us to follow. I want him to baptize my children.

Funny enough, you bring up the nipple. Why are we so inspired by nipples? Don't you think we look silly the way we play with them? We pinch. We roll them between our fingers. We flick them up and down. We tune them like a radio dial. We bite them. We gnaw. We lick. We do so many funny things to them. Really, it's a bit infantile. Basically, the same technique in rolling up a booger is the popular technique in playing with the nipple.

Anyway, back on topic. COTY is an inspiration to all.

 

[knowone]

let's be honest, who really needs a coach to inspire them.
BOOBS! NOW THAT'S HOW YOU REALLY RALLY THE TROOPS!