A friend of mine talked me into going to the city's football outing. It was exactly what I thought it would be a bunch of talentless kids running around like crazy people and their parents thinking they had the next Hall of fame player.
No wonder this place was free, the coaching sucked, and the organization of everything was terrible. The only good thing about it was the field. Even the equipment was outdated.
"Seriously?" I asked as my friend's face lit up.
"What?" he asked.
"It's a dumpster fire!" I exclaimed by looking over everything.
"They are always looking for volunteer coaches," he shrugged.
The thought crossed my mind when the head guy asked. I couldn't shoot my hand up fast enough. If anything, I wanted to take everything over and start anew.
When he took us all aside and gave us the talk, I kept my mouth shut and waited until the end.
"Harley," I said as I chased after him.
"Josh, right?" Harley asked.
"Yes," I nodded.
We went back and forth about what I was thinking about. He told me the city didn't provide him or the other teams with enough money or support to make significant changes. Even the equipment was beyond their support.
I dwelled on the matter even when I got home. Then an idea struck me, and it could provide some support and some recognition.
I went to work as usual and told my store manager about my idea, which he loved and passed up the chain. It didn't take long for an answer to come back.
Our company was always looking into ways to support our local areas throughout our operating divisions, so they jumped at the chance to support local teams.
By the next day, it had made local news, and after a week, all the surrounding stores were donating funds to the teams. It was also told to the stores that someone from each store had to be involved with one of the teams.
I, of course, picked myself for the local team.
I looked over what was going to be my team, a bunch of kids with hardly any talent, except for two, who were dynamic together.
My other volunteer coach was as large around as he was tall. His beard came down to his enormous beer keg stomach. Doubt he did any running with the team.
"I was the coach last year," he said, spitting his chew into a soda bottle. "Won two games," he said proudly.
"Josh," I introduced myself as I had the kids run a lap around the field. "I intend on winning more than two games."
Dillon, one of the other grocery managers from another store, was my rival in everything, and he decided he would be a coach for one of the other teams. Of course, his team was the favorites to win it all as they had done three years in a row.
"Leon," the big guy said as he pointed to the slowest kid. "That's my boy," he said with pride.
Like his father, the kid was the biggest out there, both in height and weight and the slowest. After they returned, I had them run drills to separate them into offence and defense. The two dynamos were, of course, already primed to be on offence.
By the end of the day, most of the kids were limping or holding their stomachs as they went off the field.
"Went a bit hard on them, didn't you?" Leon asked.
"They will get used to it," I nodded.
Harley passed by as he had visited the other teams in the area and gave me a list of the parent's phone numbers for emergencies and the social media page that linked everything together.
I went home and made up a schedule of drills and plays to run for the following few practices.
Of course, I got a few emails to my football profile saying how bad their kids were hurting and sore. I didn't reply. If I lost a few, it wouldn't be too bad.
I had no intention of losing to Dillon. He already had the better sales in the district; I wasn't giving him this tournament as well.
The next two practices went even better. There was less complaining and more working as a team. My two dynamos even came up with a few plays they had seen on their football video game, which I was happy to incorporate.
Leon's son was placed on defense which he wasn't happy about as he told me that his son had the potential to be a tight end. I didn't laugh in his face, but later on, I had a good laugh about it, as an errant throw went his way, and he had an easy interception, but the ball hit him in the face.
Leon was pissed at me for putting his son on defense, so he left me to pick up all the equipment.
"Sorry about my husband?" a voice said.
As I looked up, I saw the eye candy mother I had been staring at for the past few weeks.
"Kimberly, my husband is Leon," she said.
"Oh," I nodded as I wiped my dirty hand on my shirt. "Josh," I nodded.
"I know," Kimberly smiled. She looked back at the large truck parked in the lot. "I better go, I just wanted to apologize, thank you for putting my son through the ringer, he needs to lose some weight."
"Anytime," I nodded as I watched her pert ass run towards the truck.
'Too bad the son doesn't get the traits from his mom,' I thought to myself.
Kimberly was the definition of a hot soccer mom, or in this case, a football mom.
For the following practices, I would steal glances at her. It was apparent she was very blessed up top. Whether it was naturally done or not was the question. She had a tight stomach and long blonde hair. How she ended up with that lard ass was the biggest mystery.
Our first game came quickly, and I was excited to see my team on the field for the first time. I wanted to see how they would face the real challenge, no more practice. This was the real thing.
They more than surprised me as we won easily. Our defense was stifling and got two turnovers, and rallied behind the two dynamos our offence couldn't be stopped.
We could score at will. By the time halftime came around, the opposing coach had asked if we could call off the next half as he knew there was no chance of a comeback. For the rest of the time, the kids got to play games and run around.
"Good game," Leon said as he shook my hand.
That was the first time he had talked to me in a while. Instead, he had been choosing to talk bad about me to the other dads that were furious with me that their kids didn't play offence.
"He can be soft when he wants to be," Kimberly said as she approached me.
"Sure," I said. "Not what he said to them the other day."
Kimberly's eyes went wide. "Don't worry, it's not the first time or will it be the last time I have been called that," I said.
"I really am sorry, he shouldn't have said that," Kimberly shook her head.
"Kim! Let's go!" Leon shouted.
"Coming, sorry again," Kimberly said.
The following practice, Kimberly surprised everyone by going out and running with the team for their warmup run around the field. I laughed as many of the kids were trying to keep up with her, which was a failed attempt. She was a marvelous runner. As for the topic if her tits were natural or not, seeing their uniformed bounce under the tight top confirmed that she had work done.
"Thought it would give them some motivation," Kimberly said as she stopped in front of me.
"Where's Leon?" I asked.
"We got into an argument, and I told him to stay home," Kimberly shook her head. "You're stuck with me for the day coach," she winked.
