When I first entered high school my sophomore year I went out for football. I wasn't much of an athlete and had no interest in football per say but I was in love with the assistant coach. He was at that time in my life the hottest thing on two legs I had ever seen. He was of course a frustrated college athlete who never made pro but still loved to party and talked about all that could have been if it hadn't had been for that bad ankle. Yes, he was the kind of the guy that would call you pussy if you couldn't bench press as much as he or didn't love running 5 miles every day in the blistering afternoon sun.

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He also always referred to himself in the third person as "The Coach". "The Coach likes this" and "The Coach likes that," "Drop and give The Coach 20," well, you get the picture. And of course we were delivered weekly updates on the women he had managed to seduce when he wasn't coaching and teaching drivers ed. But still, I loved him.