The evening training was over and I was sitting quietly up in my coach's box, reviewing what I had observed during the session. All in all, I thought that things had gone fairly well but for one little thing. There was this subtle sense of rancour within the team. Something or someone was upsetting things and it was up to me to sort it out. On the plus side, I thought I knew what the problem was. On the down side, I didn't have a resolution for it -- yet.
While standing there looking down at the ground I saw part one of the problem trot into sight, accompanied by part two. To my displeasure I also noted that part three of the problem was approaching and all three parts were going to meet down under my box where I'd have a first class view of proceedings. Maybe a solution would also show itself.
Some people are born trouble-makers, naturally gifted in that area. Others work at it. Mary-Lou Donaldson was a natural who also worked at it. She was one of our cheerleaders, very pretty, charismatic personality, socially popular with both sexes. Eighteen, and a real ball of fire. The only reason she wasn't the captain of the cheer-leader squad was because she didn't want to be. You can't subtly criticise the leadership if you are the leader. She was part one of my problem and the basic cause.
Currently walking beside her was Mike, her purported boyfriend and my Quarterback. Part two of my problem.
Trotting up fast to meet them was Andy, my running back and Mary-Lou's ex, even though he didn't seem to have got the message. This could be because she hasn't sent it yet.
The three of them came together and the backchat started between Mike and Andy, with Mary-Lou putting in her two—bits worth at exactly the wrong time. It didn't take long and the two young gorillas were beating their chests and bumping against each other.
That's the point where I chose to intervene. I stepped out of my box.
"It seems to me that if you two have all this energy at the end of a training session, I'm not training you hard enough," I snapped, and a sudden silence fell upon the little group, three dismayed sets of eyes focusing on me.
"Seeing that you two have so much pep and vinegar in your systems I'll give you a chance to use it. Ten laps, pull pace, and then hit the showers. I expect you to run all the way to the showers and damn-well jog in place while under them. Now move it."
The boys took off fast, eager to be gone before I lumbered them with extra activities. Mary-Lou scowled and prepared to exit, stage right.
"Hold it, Mary-Lou," I said in a nice cold tone. "Why don't you step into my box for a few moments? I want a word with you."
It was plain from the look on her pretty little face that if she had her druthers, she'd prefer not to go, but it's hard to refuse a polite request from the coach. She turned and trotted up and into my box.
I followed her in, banging the door hard enough to give her the message that I was not happy. She started defending before I started attacking.
"It wasn't my fault," she stated firmly. "I told them not to fight. I knew you'd get upset if team members started brawling."
"Did you know that this box is sound-proof," I replied with a complete non sequitur. "I means I'm not distracted by the crowds when planning things and giving instructions."
I rapped on the big window.
"This window had mirror coating on it. It stops the place from overheating and also prevents anyone from looking in. Do you know what this means?"
Mary-Lou shook her head, having no idea what I was talking about.
"It means that I have complete privacy on those occasions when I want to tell a player that he's an idiot, why he's an idiot and how far back in history his idiocy stretches. It also means that there's no-one looking in the window when I dangle the idiot from those hooks on the roof and use a cat-o-nine tails on him."
I smiled and Mary-Lou gave a little shudder. It seemed she didn't like my smile.
"In regard to the near fight not being your fault, I believe that was agreed last time there was a fight between a couple of the boys. And the time before that. And they're just the ones I know of -- officially."
Mary-Lou pursed her lips and said nothing. There wasn't much she could say really. I hadn't accused her of anything.
"Tell me, is it too much trouble for you to stop fucking one of my boys before you start on the next? I realize you can't help being a fucking tart that will screw anything with trousers but it's considered polite to say goodbye to number one before you drop your panties for number two. Unless you're into threesomes, and the way the boys are fighting I guess not."
Mary-Lou's face was switching from white to red and back. She seemed a little unhappy.
"I am not sleeping with any of the boys. I've never slept with any of them. You've no right to say I do. That's why I dump them. They get too possessive and assume that gives them rights."
I laughed at her.
"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you're a virgin?" I asked. "You've been out with almost every horny devil on the team and you can stand there and say you've fended them all off? I suppose you also have a bridge you want to sell me."
She was almost dancing on the spot, she was so incensed.
"It's true. I don't sleep with anyone. If they try to make me I dump them. That's my right."
"I don't object to you sleeping with them or dumping them," I pointed out. "It's the picking up a new stud before you dump the old one that's the problem."
"I'm not sleeping with them, I said," she yelled. "And I do tell them that we're through before I see a new boy. It's just that they can't seem to accept it."
