The Jesus Cobras floor hockey team
Yesterday I bought a cookie.
It was double chocolate chip and I was really looking forward to eating it.
I saved it all day.
Some of you might think this a little feminine of me, but I don’t care, it’s the truth and I’m a truth teller.
It’s not always easy to be a truth teller, but it’s the right path, even if some people think you’re different. No matter, I thought about this cookie a fair amount and devised a specific plan for its consumption. I would eat it before dinner, while coaching my wife Rachelle’s floor hockey team, The Jesus Cobras, at their 7:00 o’clock game.
It turned out to be a very tense and stressful game.
As a truth teller, sometimes my coaching methods are misunderstood, and when I called Sharon, one of our defenders, “fat and lazy,” for failing to prevent a goal, it was taken the wrong way and a ripple of insubordination ran through the Cobras. Like a serpent, Rachelle hissed at me, “ I’m telling you, you stop right now with all this shrieky, insulting bullshit or I’m, I’m, you don’t even want to know what I’m going to do!”
“Yes I do,” I replied.
Rachelle pointed her finger at me, held my gaze for about ten seconds, and then walked away like she was Clint Eastwood, or something.
It was my plan to light a fire beneath the complacent Jesus Cobras, and then later, after they had taken out their fury on their opponents and begun their comeback, I would eat my cookie. At this point I took a brief break from my coaching, not because I was intimidated by Rachelle or any of the other threats from the team, but because sometimes I just like quiet time by myself. At any rate, when I returned the game was almost over. I went over to my knapsack and as I began to look for my cookie, I noticed that Rachelle was sharing it with the Cobras.
“Hey, that’s my cookie!” I shouted, “I’ve been saving that all day.”
Sharon, who really didn’t need to be eating any more, said, “ Coach Shrieky, we needed the energy boost!” All the other Cobras, like serpents in the weeds, began to laugh. I lunged at my cookie but Sharon was suddenly swift, unlike she had been on the court, and I grasped at air and tumbled onto the ground. Apparently, this was very funny, and Calvin, who is a VERY shitty winger, put on my hat which had fallen off and started to strut about yelling stupid things and asking, “ Who am I? Who am I?” And as one, the Cobras yelled out “Coach Shrieky!”
I ignored this and very politely asked for my cookie, but the Cobras devoured it right in front of me. At this point, my allergies began to bother me and I went off alone to a corner to blow my nose. As I sat there facing the wall, a man tapped me on the back. He was hugely muscled and had been working out in the weight room. He looked me square in the eyes, “ I know things don’t look so good right now, and I know how much bullying can hurt, but I want you to know, I need you to know, it get’s better, it really does.”
