Somebody Call Out the P(r)ick!

Today's edition of the Church of the Hardwood is dedicated to you, Mr. Kick-It-Back-Out-I'm-Open-For-Three:

You are a lame-o. You ruin basketball for a dozen people at a local YMCA. You make the world a dark and sinister place. You suck, you and all your kicking and screaming, prima donna, childish behavior. You are horrible. No one likes you and you don't care, you go on shouting instructions to everyone.

Ok, so you've got a decent shot. You hustle, rebound and play D on the other team's best player. That doesn't make your general crappiness acceptable. You are still the worst person on the court.

We know we're in trouble when you get the first in-bounds, launch an NBA three, miss it, and yell, "Fucking A. I shoulda hit that."

No, you should not have hit that. You should have passed that.

No, you should not even be on the court. You should be in therapy. You should be on Zoloft and Xanex and any other med that will modify YOUR HORRIBLE BEHAVIOR.

I didn't want to play with you today and even after we won the first game, I wanted us to lose. That's why I didn't hustle back on the break, why I didn't call the picks, why I half-heartedly put up a left hook. Because you are the biggest pain in the ass in the world.

Your game should be banished. If there were any justice in the world, you would never make another basket ever again and you would have to find another hobby. Perhaps knitting.

(For more context, see this site. Scroll down to "Coach on the Floor." )

He was that guy. What a dick.