bench coach

anonymous asked:

happy times today at school rant kinda: okay so i'm like a tall buff dude (like 6'2") and so in PE today my crush (oml he cute and small af he's like 5'4") twisted his ankle and since i was benching coach told me to carry him to the nurse.. and the nurse is on the other side of the school so for like 5 minutes i got to carry my crush princess style and it was amazing and i remembered he liked hamlet and he was freaking out so i recited hamlet lines to him it was pretty fucking gay and i love it

holy shit thats the gayest thing im in love..this is literally like out of a book omg

side note: this is the guy i went on a date with’s height and my height!! thats such a coincidence omg

Straight White Boy Problem #920

I almost pissed myself before a soccer game. It was really embarrassing. Coach was talking about our strategy during warmups and I reallyhadtogo. ….i couldn’t hold it in. I told Jacoby i had to find a restroom so I sprinted to the nearest toilet and relieved myself (there were no urinals fml). I think I was nervous and too hydrated…I had to go twice. When I got back, I found out Coach benched me for missing our team talk……I was pissed! I guess that’s what you get for drinking too much gatorade -_-

the boy made of gold

hey look it’s my first ever fanfic

i hope you like it

when it first started happening, baz didn’t think it was serious. everyone gets the shivers every once in a while, right? there wasn’t anything wrong with him. there couldn’t be anything wrong with him.

in football practices, he trips over his own feet and sends the ball flying into the wavering wood.

it’s okay. everyone has off days.

even when he gets the notes from the teachers about his penmanship, even when the coach benches him, even when his most practiced violin pieces stumble and falter, it’s okay. everyone messes up. tomorrow is another day.

no one notices. except for that accursed Snow boy, his blustering roommate, the boy made of gold.

“jesus, baz,” he says while copying baz’s homework. “your handwriting is worse than mine. and that’s saying something.”

“fuck off,” baz replies. but he knows that he’s lost.

he still goes to football practices, but he rarely ever gets to run on the pitch anymore.

“did you get taken off the team?” the golden boy asks. “ha! nice to see you’ve gotten a taste of defeat for once.”

baz doesn’t say anything.

he plays the violin, more than he used to. every time he messes up, he starts over again. before, when he’s done this, it takes barely a half hour, usually less, to go through all his pieces.

“baz, will you quit it with the violin?” snow yells over the din. “it’s been at least two hours! anyway, i need your answers to the political science worksheet.”

“in a minute,” he yells back.

the golden boy finally gets him to stop at around one in the morning. it’s about time to go to breakfast when baz finally finishes his work. it’s okay. he hasn’t been able to sleep well anyway. might as well make use of his extra time.

he vowed to himself he wouldn’t tell anyone. he’d keep it hidden at all costs. but it gets harder and harder.

and one day, he can’t do anything anymore.

he’s in his room. snow isn’t here to whine about his playing, so he grabs the bow and reaches for the violin–

his hands are shaking, shaking, they’re shaking so hard and they won’t stop. the bow tumbles out of his hand and falls to the ground. baz leans over and picks it up again because he has to be able to play, he has to! his hands are trembling and the bow just won’t stay fucking put in his hand–

he doesn’t hear it when snow opens the door because he’s got better things to worry about than a handsome boy made of gold because he’s gotta be able tohold a fucking bow, goddammit!

he’s crying now and the tears are rolling down his face and he tries to push the violin on to the bed so the water won’t warp the wood but his body isn’t obeying him and the violin crashes into the floor instead.

usually he keeps at least two meters away from snow at all costs but when the boy made of gold tentatively sits down on his bed he doesn’t protest. when snow hesitantly squeezes baz’s shoulder and whispers, “are you okay?” he doesn’t say anything. he can’t say anything.

“i’m a violinist who can’t hold a fucking bow,” he sobs.

Aleister fucking Crowley.

simon doesn’t tell anyone. honestly, he should tell the mage (he tells the mage everything suspicious that happens around baz) but somehow, he can’t bring himself to say anything. he can’t even tell penny.

he can never hide anything from her for too long, though, and she demands an answer after she catches him in the library looking up physical and mental disorders. (this would be so much easier with the internet, jesus christ.)

of course, as soon as she hears the symptoms, penny knows immediately.

even when she tells him that it’s incurable, simon begs her to try something,anything, on baz because even though baz is the worst person he’s ever met, it hurts him so much to see him like this. so… broken.

he’s gotta do something.

when penny sees baz, she knows why simon is so desperate to help him. even though he’s a fucking prat, she needs to do something. anything to get that cocky attitude back from this mire of depression.

she fires off all of the healing spells she knows, but they don’t do anything. she knows that already. and even though simon tells her not to tell anybody, she casts a little bird told me when he’s looking the other way and tells baz’s parents about what’s happening.

she wants to help him. but he’s already given up.

he’s barely ever lucid. they say that usually happens with parkinson’s. a lot of people get dementia in the later stages of the disease, and it seems like all of the magic and the spells have only made it advance faster. they’re sending him to a Normal doctor, but simon knows somehow that this is the end.

he’s always hated baz, but he never wanted him to die.

he’s in a cold bed. the sheets are thin. the smell of antiseptic is in the air.

he looks up and he sees him, the boy made of gold, sitting on a stool.

“s… simon?”

his voice is fading, fading, dying away.

snow starts. “baz?”

“i’m scared.”

snow grabs hold of his hand – his cold, shaking hand – and squeezes it tight. “you’re gonna be all right. you’ll be able to play the violin again, okay? once you get out of here, i’ll help you practice on the football pitch! we can fight and argue just like we always do!” there are tears in his eyes.

“it’s gonna be okay… it’s gonna be okay.”

it’s not gonna be okay.

Anger reliever m.c

this should’ve been posted ages ago

-Noelle


summary:You are dating hockey Michael and his team loses by one point and he is so angry that he takes all his frustration out on you by fucking you into next week (requested by anon)

rating: smut and a few swear words 


The two teams skated onto the ice and onto their side of the rink. The goalie got into place while some people practised shooting on him and other passed the puck back and forth. Michael shot his puck towards the goalie and skated over to you, his white captain badge contrasting the black of his jersey. 

‘Good luck!’ you told him

‘Thanks babe’ he blew you a kiss and went back to practicing. He passed the puck back and forth with his co-captain and shot it to the net again. Then, the referee blew the whistle and the teams retreated to their bench. The coaches gave the usual pep talk and the 2 referees and the 2 line men took their places. The same referee blew the whistle again, signaling that the game was beginning. Michael went to the center of the rink for the faceoff. The other team’s captain skated over and got ready. The referee came closer, the puck in one hand, the whistle in the other. He blew the whistle and dropped the puck at the same time. The two captains fought for control over the puck but eventually, Michael got it and skated forwards. 

‘and it’s Clifford with the puck. He skates forwards and passes to his right wing, Hemmings who is also co captain. Clifford keeps on skating forwards as Hemmings passes to Hood who passes to Clifford again. Clifford works his way through the defendants. He shoots! He scores! The score is now 1-0.’ the announcer said

‘Yeah!’ You cheered. Michael caught your eyes and winked at you. The other team’s goalie passed the puck to a player and the player skated forwards. He passed the puck on the middle line of the rink. 

‘Stupid move from the losing team. Rule number one is never pass through the middle, right Bob’ the other commentator said

‘Indeed Jerry. Hood manages to intercept and moves forwards. Oh the puck is take away by Hood by the other teams left wing and passed to their captain. Captain moves forwards and tries to score a goal.’ Bob said

‘The defendant, Irwin saves it and skates forwards. Irwin passes to Hemmings who skates over to the net and shoots.’ Jerry commented

‘He’s way off Jerry. The puck didn’t even hit the goalpost. It’s still 1-0.’ Bob shook his head. 

‘Losing team in possession now. Right wing to left wing who passes to captain. And of course something has to go wrong’ Jerry sighed. The referee blew his whistle and the players stopped.

‘It seems that the team captain has just committed an offside.’ Jerry confirmed

‘Now if you don’t know, an offside is when the player enters the opposing team’s side of the rink before the puck itself resulting in a faceoff in the team’s defensive zone’ Bob explained. Michael was sent for the faceoff and Luke and Calum were close behind him. The referee dropped the puck and again, Michael got possession of it.

‘Clifford with the puck again. Clifford to Hood. Hood shoots, he scores! 2-0 for Clifford’s team!’ Jerry cheered. The arena erupted into cheers and Michael winked at you yet again. You smiled at him and he gave you a thumbs up.

‘It looks like team captain, Michael Clifford is flirting with his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N who is in the crowd tonight.’ Bob chuckled. The camera went to you and you lowered your head and blushed.

‘Bob look! She’s blushing!’ Jerry teased, giggling. You shook your head and focused on the game again. The losing team was getting ready to start again but the referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the first period.

‘And that’s the end of the first period.’ Jerry announced. The teams got off of the ice and to their bench. The coaches gave yet another pep talk, Michael’s team getting a positive one and the other team most likely getting a negative and angry one. Michael skated over to you.

‘You’re gonna win okay?’ you asked him.

‘Only if I get some sex as a reward’ he said

‘You know you will’ you giggled.

‘Clifford! Back to your position!’ Michael’s coach called. He bid you goodbye and went back to the game. 

‘Okay second period. Losing team takes control of the puck in the face off, catching the winning team off guard. The right wing receives the puck from center and passes to left wing who skates forwards, full speed. Clifford intercepts but it sadly is taken back by the opposing team’s captain.’ Bob rushed to keep up.

‘Captain shoots and hits the goal post. Never shoot from too far a distance. Defendant Irwin takes the puck and moves up to the center of the rink. He passes to Hemmings, giving him a chance to redeem himself. Hemmings skates closer and shoots. he scores! 3-0!’ Jerry continued. Yet again, Michael caught your eye and gave you a smirk. The game continued and by the end of second period, it was 7-5, Michael’s team still in the lead. 

With 3rd period came a lot of stress. The goals were getting harder to save and also harder to The other team was getting more aggressive and rough, nearly injuring many of your players,resulting them in many penalties. 

‘And here we see the team captain of the losing team body checking Clifford’ Jerry winced and the referee blew his whistle. Your eyes widened in worry.

‘Penalty for the team captain.’ Bob explained the reason the referee blew his whistle

‘Two minutes for charging Clifford’ Jerry finished

‘Clifford seems to be okay. No visible injuries.’ Bob confirmed. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and relaxed

‘Clifford’s team is now on power play. They have more players and they should use that to their advantage.’ Jerry said. The referee put the puck back in play with a faceoff and the opposing team got possession of it again. They scored two more goals, making it 8-8.

‘Only two minutes left. Everyone’s back on the ice and the score is 8-8 and Clifford’s team has the puck.’ Bob said, obviously scared that his team may lose. 

‘Hemmings has the puck. Hemmings to Hood. Hood to Clifford. Clifford shoots and it gets intercepted by defense.’ Jerry commented

‘Defense to right wing. Right wing to center. Irwin tries to protect his net but fails. Center shoots. Center scores. 9-8 for the visitors.’ The buzzer went off, signaling the end of the game. The players shook hands and went to their locker room. You went to Michael’s locker room and waited by the door for Michael to come out. 

‘Hey Luke! Is Michael still in there?’ you asked Luke when he got out

‘He’s still in there. He’s the only one left you can go inside’ he informed you. You nodded and went inside the room. It smelled like sweat and unwashed socks. You ignored the smell and followed the sound of a shower running. When you reached the middle of the room, you were surprised to see Michael sitting on one of the benches instead of being in that running shower. You sat beside him

‘You okay? I know that game was important to you.’ you gently approached the topic, not knowing how he’d react. 

‘No I’m not fucking okay Y/N! That was the state championship! The most important fucking game we’ve gotten all season!’ He roared. He was also standing up now so he was hovering over  you. You stood up too, trying to make yourself feel less vulnerable. That didn’t work all that well. You were still shorter than him. He put his hands on your shoulders and pinned you to the wall.

‘And you wearing my jersey and looking fucking hot in it makes this ten times worse.’ he growled in your ear. He peeled it off of you and threw it into his bag. He took off your pants, leaving you in your bra and panties. You took off his shirt while he worked on his pants. Soon enough, you were both in your underwear.

‘Damn you look hot’ Michael growled again. He unclasped your bra and threw it into his bag where all your discarded clothing was. His hands started playing with your boobs while he kissed you, making you moan into his mouth. One of his hands left your breast and went to slip your panties off. 

‘You’re so wet Y/N. Who did this?’ Michael grumbled

‘You did Mikey’ you moaned as his fingers moved up and down your folds. His thumb started rubbing your clit in rough figure eight motions, causing you a lot of pleasure. Without warning, his middle and ring fingers slipped into you, making you hiss. They pumped in and out of you, hitting a spot inside you when they curled upwards. His thumb was still rubbing your clit, adding more pleasure to the mix

‘Shit Mikey I’m close’ you moaned. His movements became rougher, sending you over the edge. You bit his shoulder, stifling your moans. His hands left you and took his boxers off. He rolled on a condom and immediately started pounding into you at full force. Still sensitve from your first oragsm, you felt the familiar knot in your stomach in no time. Feeling your orgasm nearing, Michael brought his hand down and started rubbing your clit. You were sent over the edge again, not trying to stifle your moans this time. Michael followed and pulled out, disposing of the condom and tossing you your clothes. You slipped them on and tried to walk

‘Y/N? Are you okay?’ he asked when he saw you struggling to walk

‘No. You just fucked me into next week!’ you giggled. He lifted you up bridal style and carried you to the car.

‘You make an amazing anger reliever by the way Y/N’ he chuckled at a red light.

Tomorrow, or today depending on your time zone, it’s the 10-year anniversary of Kobe’s 81-point game. 

From ESPN’s article:

A month before playing Toronto, Bryant outscored the Dallas Mavericks by himself through three quarters 62-61 (the Lakers’ lead was 95-61). Bryant played only 33 minutes that night and sat out the entire fourth quarter of the Lakers’ blowout win over the eventual Western Conference champions. When he was asked after the game how many points he would have finished with had he played the fourth quarter, Bryant shrugged his shoulders. “Probably 80,” he said. “I was in a really, really good groove.”

Brian Shaw: After the third quarter, the players were on the bench and the coaches went out and huddled on the court. Phil asked me to go ask Kobe if he wanted to stay in the game and try to get 70 and then come out. So I went up to Kobe and said, “Hey, Coach wants to know if you want to stay in for the first few minutes of the fourth quarter, get 70 and then come out.” He looked up at the scoreboard, and he said, “Nah, I’ll get it another time.” I looked at him and I kind of got mad. I said: “What?! You have a chance to get 70 points. How many people can say they scored 70 points? Just stay in the first few minutes and get another eight points, get 70 and then come out of the game.” He said: “I’ll do it when we really need it. I’ll get it when it really matters.”

Kobe Bryant: Brian was mad. He was like: “Man, are you crazy? You know what you could score tonight?” I just said, “I’ll do it when we really need it.” Brian was like, “What?!” It was something that just rolled off my tongue because I trained extremely hard and the physical tools were there. I just felt like I could have a game like that again. 

Jalen Rose: Kobe Bryant was already erupting that year in the league. Multiple games he scored 40-plus points. A better game than the 81-point game – that’s right, because we weren’t a playoff team; we weren’t competitive – was to put up 62 points in three quarters versus the Dallas Mavs, a team that went to the NBA Finals. Now, that’s work.

'Jill Ellis' a poem

Joke of a lineup

Is convinced abby is still the best player 

Loses a lot of games

Likes having a-rod on the bench 

Everyone disagrees with her methods

Loves playing players outside their normal positions 

Likes to just sit on the bench while the assistant coaches actually coach

Isn’t a fan favorite 

Scares every fan in terms of the wwc2015 and how we will do