Our first inductee to the jacka** coach hall of fame is... (a rant)

..."Oh, was that today?" guy!
We've all encountered one of these bastards. You call them up a few days ahead of time to set up a day to come out and talk about the season, get mugshots, all the preseason tab stuff. Then, when you get there -- usually after driving 30 or 40 minutes -- they have four players at practice and a stupified look on their face as they say, "Oh, was that today?"

I called one of our area coaches late last week to set up our meeting. He said "How's Monday?", I said "Fine."
He said, "We start practice at 4:30." I said "That'll be perfect. We need pictures, too. Can you have them in a jersey?" He says yes.
Monday comes, I get there a little later than I'd have liked, around 4:15, but still a few minutes early. They're already running plays, and I start to get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The coach is new, so I'm not sure who he is until he waves me over a couple minutes later. He introduces himself, I introduce myself, and he goes, "So you needed pictures or something?"
Starting to feel that pit grow larger, I grit my teeth and say yes. Yes we did.
He responds, "Well, here's the thing. We don't have them in game jerseys or anything. My administration is gonna be mad at me if we take a picture looking like this. Can you come back another day this week?"
I say, "Well coach, my administration is going to be mad at me too. We really need to do this."
He says they have a meet the team thing Thursday, which just so happens to be a de facto media day at the college 15 minutes up the road, so I say fine. Thursday it is.
Without another word, dude then walks away and gets back to practice. I wait until a water break and get my interviews with him and his quarterback done, which was also like pulling teeth. The team sucked last year, the coach is new to the school, was a late July hire, and says he doesn't have any starters back. Doesn't even know who they'll be. I remind him, half-jokingly, that their first game is next Friday and it might behoove him to get on that. He didn't seem to find it particularly funny, but finished the interview.
I watched practice until the next water break, another 20 or 30 minutes in 90-degree heat (cool for this time of year, but still pretty warm) and asked him a couple of general information type questions. Like if he knew his career record (which drew a stare that is usually reserved for when someone asks if you've just shit yourself). He gently reminded me that he won a state title a few years back at Southeast Podunk, and that was all he needed to know. And I asked if he had a schedule and roster (he'd have those on Thursday, too, he said).

So I sarcastically thanked him and walked to the car -- after he asked, "Who are you again?" -- wanting the whole time to punch this guy in the kidney.
Repeatedly. Until blood shot out of his fucking mouth like Old Faithful.
Hey coach, if you were to drive 30 minutes for a scheduled game, only when you got there the other team was in its practice unis and said they just didn't feel like playing, wouldn't you be a little pissed off?
Oh, and if you're having a picture day or something similar later in the week, why not FUCKING TELL ME THAT WHEN I ASK WHAT A GOOD DAY TO SHOOT A TEAM PICTURE IS!? Is it so damn hard to say, "We're having a meet the team night on Thursday, why not come out then?"
The most frustrating thing is, assheads like this are probably the first to break out "personal accountability" and "be on time" cards, then pull something like this.
Thanks for wasting 2 1/2 hours of my day, coach. 'Preciate that. Good luck on your third straight 0-11 season. I'm sure you'll call us every Friday night with the details. Fuckwad.

 

Outstanding!

Try going with a tv camera, when you've been begging for one of the short-staffed shooters (I realize I just typed short-staffed shooters... they'll be made at me) for a week... and you encounter the same. And you're not sure if you're gonna have one of said shooters when the coach says "Thursday."

 

Shit... I've had seasons where that sums up every one of my area coaches.

 

Well, you shoulda let 'em in the poll, slappy.

 

I don't believe for a minute that you wanted it to come out of his mouth. ;D

 

Digging this thread up, because I love the idea of the Jackass HOF.

This week's nominee in the high school division, winding down a season's worth of four-touchdown losses, was getting drilled 41-8 at halftime last week. He proceeded to go thermonuclear on his team in the locker room -- audible all the way out in the stands and totally NSFW, according to observers -- then walked out and told the ref they weren't playing the second half. Hilarity ensued:
gamer
update: coach resigns

I've seen coaches quit during the season before, but in the middle of a game? I missed our school's game against them a couple of weeks ago, and maybe that's a good thing.

Honorable mention to the losing coach who demanded I shut off my recorder because "I don't allow my voice to be taped." (He's a town cop, so maybe he's got a legit reason. I doubt it, but maybe.) When I told a fellow writer about the incident later that night, his suggested reply was, "But you allowed that mess to be videotaped?" Damn, I wish I'd thought of something like that at the time ... although it would have meant avoiding driving through his town for the next few years ...

Anyone else have a good horror story from this season?

 

I don't use a recorder for post-game, but that's nuts. I'd keep it running. he doesn't want to talk, 'coach numbnuts declined to be interviewed following the game' is what he gets saturday morning. ass.

 

This has potential for sarcastic Real Men Of Genius-type treatment. "Here's to you, Mr. That Was Today? guy.

 

There's actually a postscript to this that grows this guy's legend even more.
That Thursday I drove back down to his school, making sure to get there plenty early this time. Pictures go off without a hitch, and he even has a roster and schedule. Everything goes well -- until I try to get his mugshot. He says, "Well, I really need a haircut. I'm going to be up in your town tomorrow. Can I drop by your office?"
I try to tell him this picture is going to run one, maybe two or three times. We just need to have something that day. I plead. I cajole. Nothing. Douchenozzle just will not let me take his picture. I finally give up and give him a card, and even sketch out directions to our office, all of our phone numbers, and the best time to come by the next day.
Amazingly, he didn't show up.
It's OK, though. It's not like he's getting coach of the year any time soon. His team is 0-7, and I think the closest game they've played ended up 38-12.
Karma's a bitch, coach.

 

You still covering the McCall, er, Madison Parish beat? You should have flashed your can of mace. That would have settled everything.

Hey, it could have been worse - when you got to his office, he could have told you, "Just a second, I'll be right back." And promptly begun his 2 1/2-hour practice.

 

I did take a few notes as we walked across the field to their bus, but by the time we hit the far sideline, I could tell he wasn't going to give me anything but useless coachspeak cliches (and in a pissed-off mood) anyway. Fuck that noise. I wrote it without mentioning his name.

Batman, running an empty box with a little X in the corner would have been hysterical. Or maybe one of these ...

 

Several years ago, our paper sent a photographer to a local cat show. Figured it'd make for some cute pictures. Turns out, cat people are kind of psycho.
One of them calls up the next day, upset that Mittens was left out of a group shot. Apparently, there was a big cat show rivalry we stepped in the middle of and this person was convinced we ran a picture of Fluffy instead of Mittens because it belonged to one of the show's organizers.
Our news editor listened for a few minutes and tried to politely explain that not only did we not know about all this backstage drama, but we really didn't give a shit. Finally, after about 10 minutes, the editor has had enough. She just yells out, "Then take a piece of paper, write 'not here' on it, and slap it on the picture!" and slams down the phone.
She's been a hero to many in the newsroom ever since.