Swaggerific

I was an awful coach my second year on the job. When I took over as Head Coach, I had a mere season of coaching experience under my belt as an assistant. With the exception of a few drills, I really didn't learn how to do much under the guy I worked for. It wasn't that he was a bad coach. We just happened to be so talented that the team didn't need much direction. I did a solid job during my first year at the wheel (18-11), but my mismanagement of one player (Swag) in year two killed what could have been a championship season.

Swag introduced me to the Bubble. As a matter of fact, my definition of the Bubble stems primarily from interactions I had with him over the course of a season. He was from New York City and behaved like a stereotypical city kid out there. Defining his attitude as brash would be an understatement. Every time we met, for example, I had to remind him to take off his fitted and dark shades.

Swag's initial visit to the college set the table for what I was about to experience that second season. Four years later, I still remember how put off I was when I picked him up at the bus station.

Me: Welcome to Worcester, man! I'm glad you made it out here!
Swag: (glasses on) Yeh. So how far is campus from here?
Me: It's not too far from here. You'll see.
Swag: Where's there to chill out here. I don't see nothin around here.
Me: You just got in the car.
Swag: Whoa. This ain't nothin like NYC! What is this????
Me: What were you expecting?
Swag: I don't know, but not this. This is Nothingville!

On the way back to the bus station that afternoon, I had to check him when he rolled down the car window to holla at a young woman who was crossing the street in front of us.