CLERICAL ERROR PUTS LOCAL GYM TEACHER IN CHARGE SCHOOL MUSKRAT FARM
CLERICAL ERROR PUTS LOCAL GYM TEACHER IN CHARGE OF SCHOOL MUSKRAT FARM
BROOKSVILLE, KY — A recent administrative oversight has left head basketball coach and part-time gym teacher, Coach Whitaker, overseeing the newly reassigned position of Muskrat Farm Supervisor—a role he learned about via a reply-all email from the district office.
“I’m used to getting last-minute gym time when the band finishes rehearsing, but I have to admit, the muskrat thing is a curveball,” said Whitaker, who arrived Tuesday morning to find a box of rubber boots and a laminated feeding schedule waiting in his office, right where his clipboard usually rests. “I guess it’s just like subbing for PE, except with more hay and less dodgeball.”
Sources report that the muskrat enclosure—formerly the JV wrestling room—features several improvised habitats constructed from leftover wrestling mats, three broken water fountains, and what appeared to be the scorched remains of last season’s practice jerseys. Whitaker, ever the pragmatist, has begun logging muskrat feeding times in the same Excel sheet he uses to track team fouls.
“I’ve already told my players: if you can’t make it to open gym, you can always help with muskrat enrichment activities. Builds character, or at least stamina,” said the coach while using a Sharpie to label buckets “offense” and “defense” for the feeding rotation.
An assistant principal has reportedly recommended hiring a licensed animal caretaker, but Whitaker is confident in his system. “Look, until the district sorts it out, we’ll just run the muskrats through the same shell drill we use for transition defense. If all else fails, I’ve got a whistle and a roll of athletic tape.”
Coach Whitaker has announced a Saturday fundraising car wash to benefit the muskrat habitat, with leftover proceeds earmarked for new net clips.
PHOENIX BASKETBALL TEAM NOW REQUIRED TO WEAR FLAMMABLE UNIFORMS TO BE “ON THEME”
BROOKSVILLE, KY — The Phoenix High School boys’ basketball team debuted their new uniforms this week—polyester jerseys emblazoned with a realistic flame print and, according to the athletic director, manufactured with “mid-tier flammability” to better capture the school’s fiery mascot.
Coach Dan Mercer explained that after losing last year’s mascot branding contest to the marching band’s “Firebird Fanfare” halftime show, basketball had no choice but to fully embrace the heat. “We’re just leaning in. If the school wants ‘spirit integration,’ we’ll give them uniforms that might actually combust during a timeout,” Mercer said, straightening the charred edge of his clipboard.
Players reported mild discomfort during Tuesday’s scrimmage, which was paused twice so the assistant coach could douse a smoldering jersey with the team water cooler. “I told the guys, ‘If you feel a little warm, that’s just the Phoenix rising,’” Mercer said, adding that the athletic department assured him the uniforms technically pass open-flame tests “unless directly exposed.”
The switch came after the booster club’s budget proposal for moisture-wicking gear was denied in favor of “thematic excellence.” Varsity captain Riley Turner described the new kit as “toasty,” but admitted it did simplify the postgame laundry process. “Coach says we just wave ‘em in front of the vent and the sweat evaporates right out.”
Despite minor first-degree burns, the team plans to double down with “Inferno Night” next Friday, featuring a halftime relay race with sparkler batons and a ceremonial smudge-stick blessing of the ball rack. Mercer has requested an additional fire extinguisher for the scorer’s table, “just in case the spirit gets out of hand.”
FACTBALL 3000
In 2019, the Westview Wildcats negotiated the longest faculty-coach gym standoff after the badminton team hid the basketballs in a ceiling tile —a total of three hours.
CHALK DUST AND TRUTH: TEAM DYNAMICS
I once tried to build team chemistry by assigning each player a spirit animal, and halfway through, half our roster insisted they were actually real.
We went 18–2 that season until the mascot took up flamenco dancing.
AMERICAN COURTSIDE’S EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH TED LASSO
Published: July 2025
Still riding high from Season 2’s critical acclaim and a fresh Emmy win for Jason Sudeikis, Ted Lasso’s titular coach has become something of a global cheerleader —singlehandedly raising the stock of both AFC Richmond and Apple TV+. We caught up with the mustachioed motivator to discuss transatlantic misunderstandings, the hazards of weaponized optimism, and why every corporation suddenly wants to be just like Ted.
American Courtside: Ted, Season 2 premiered to rave reviews and record viewers. How do you stay so upbeat with this much pressure?
Ted Lasso: Well, I treat reviews like I treat my Aunt Patty’s meatloaf: smile politely, swallow hard, and hope the next bite goes down easier. Pressure just makes the biscuits rise, partner.
American Courtside: Critics say your relentless positivity wouldn’t survive five minutes in a real locker room. Thoughts?
Ted Lasso: Oh, I’ve coached real folks —trust me, optimism’s like deodorant: works better when everyone uses it. But sometimes you gotta air out the room before you mask the stink.
American Courtside: The show’s often described as ‘the antidote to cynicism.’ Do you ever worry that feel-good branding is just a way for corporations to sell more streaming subscriptions?
Ted Lasso: You betcha. Nothing says “transformative empathy” like a limited-edition lunchbox, right? But hey, if kindness becomes a marketing gimmick, at least it beats selling folks on “grit-flavored” energy drinks.
American Courtside: What’s the biggest cultural misunderstanding you still face coaching in England?
Ted Lasso: I’ll never get over how “pants” means underwear here. Imagine my confusion at the team’s first kit fitting. Bless their hearts for not laughing —at least, not until I left the room.
American Courtside: Apple TV+ loves touting Ted Lasso as a beacon of hope. Do you ever feel like a mascot for corporate wellness?
Ted Lasso: Mascot? Heck, sometimes I feel like the office therapy dog —here for emotional support and occasional shedding. But I draw the line at fetching anyone’s coffee.
American Courtside: How would you handle a truly toxic teammate —someone positivity can’t fix?
Ted Lasso: Well, every garden’s got its weeds, but sometimes they’re just flowers with bad PR. I like to listen first. And if that don’t work, I recommend a transfer to a rival team.
American Courtside: Has British culture rubbed off on you, or are you just Americanizing the Premier League one “Howdy” at a time?
Ted Lasso: Oh, I’m practically 10% tea by now. But for every “cheers,” there’s a “y’all” —I figure cross-pollination keeps things interesting. I just wish they’d Americanize their dental plans.
American Courtside: Some say the show simplifies real-world problems into charming misunderstandings. Is that fair?
Ted Lasso: Life’s complex, sure. But if smoothing out the rough bits helps folks talk, laugh, or hug their dads, then I reckon that’s one misunderstanding I can live with.
American Courtside: What’s your advice to all the tech CEOs trying to Ted Lasso their way through the next shareholder call?
Ted Lasso: Remember: biscuit boxes are cheaper than severance packages, but sincerity can’t be outsourced to HR —no matter how many slides you put in the break room.
Coach B
Editor-in-Chief, BBCoachBlog
🏀 This newsletter is not affiliated with any other parody site… but your mother might be! You should ask her!