Alright, now when I was a kid,
a played a lot of baseball. And for the most part, every team
that I’ve been a part of, has been terrible. But all that changed, when I played for the team,
called ‘The Trojans’ in middle school. You see, in middle school
it’s a big difference, playing baseball. You’re older now, and your coaches
don’t have to be nice to you all the time. This wasn’t tee-ball, where your coach
gives you praise no matter what you do. “Ah, you did so great, little Billy!” “Even though you were digging
in your ass crack half the time in the outfield.” “You get a juice box, way to go, champ!” No, it’s not like that. All of a sudden I’m 12 years old,
and my coach is some 44-year-old man who smokes cigarettes and calls me an asshole,
when I get thrown out stealing second. Now, this guy was just an angry man in general. I’m not sure, what his home life was like. But it probably consisted of a lot of divorce and a lot of lonely nights
eating the Hungry Man TV dinners. But he taught us baseball
in a very simple, but effective way. If you missed a grounder, you had to run a lap. If you struck out, had to run a lap. If you forgot to wear your jockstrap.. well, guess what?
Your ass is running a lap! And you don’t want to forget
your jockstrap, let me tell you! “You guys need to protect your nuts!
You hear me?!” “You guys feel more ground balls with your crotch
than you do with your goddamn glove!” Sometimes he’d even have a kid
go around with a baseball bat tap everybody in the crotch
just to make sure you were wearing a cup. Now, we had some classy individuals
on our team, let me tell you! There was our catcher Adam,
how had a big-ass retainer in his mouth. Nobody could understand what the hell he was saying. “SSSheyeverybodySSSSSwhatSSSSsSSSSgoingSSSSSonSSS!” “What did he say?” “I don’t know, I think he’s speaking
fucking Portuguese or something” You had our first baseman Mark who our coach hated, because he could never
remember any of the signals, when he was at bat. Our coach would be at third base, giving him signs. Mark would be standing there, all perplexed. “What the hell is he doing? La Macarena?!” “What do you want me to do, Coach?” “God damn it, Mark, BUNT!” “I WANT YOU TO BUNT, YOU DENSE BASTARD!” And then you had Dennis. And Dennis had it the worst,
because Dennis was the coach’s kid! No matter what Dennis did,
it was never good enough. “Jesus Christ, Dennis! You’re swinging
the bat like a goddamn golden girl!” “It’s no wonder, why your mother left us, holy hell!” But even if we were incompetent, our psychopath
coach would always find us a way to win our games. He’d pull as aside in the dugout: “All right, we’re down 3 runs. You guys
are forgetting that baseball is a mental game!” “Here, watch this!” “Hey, pitcher! The hospital just called!” “Your grandma just broke her hip,
trying to wipe her ass!” “She’s in critical condition!” “Oh no, not Mimo!” “See? Now his head is all screwed up,
he can’t even focus on pitching now!” “Oh my God, my Mimo is in trouble!” He’d have Adam talk to the batters,
while they’re trying to hit. “SSSSSheySSSSSbetterSSSSSbatterSSSSS” “SSSSSHEYSSSSSBETTERSSSSSBATTERSSSSS” “SSSSSSSCHWINGBETTERSSSSSSS” “Why the fuck does this guy
keep speaking Portuguese?” (Whooosh-pop!)
“Strike three!” But of course, the other teams we played
against, would talk some shit too. I mean, our team name
was ‘The Trojans’ for Christ’s sake! We pretty much asked for it. “Hey, Trojans! I didn’t know
condoms knew how to play baseball” “Yeah, well, at least we won’t have to worry
about STDs when we’re fucking you in the playoffs!” (Whoosh-pop!)
“Strike three!” “Oh, God damn it!” Now, thanks to our verbally abusive coach
and all of our shit talking we were actually a pretty good team! Hell, we even made it
to the city championship in our division. And the city championship is a pretty big deal. Everybody’s family comes out to watch the game. “Is that my uncle Bob?
I thought he was still in prison!” “Hey, Billy, why don’t you keep your fuckin’
mouth shut out there and mind your own business?!” All right, Play ball! Now we were pretty
confident we were gonna win this game. That is we were confident, until we’ve seen
the team that we had to play against. Because every kid on this goddamn team looked like the fuckin’ Russian
from Rocky 4 for Christ’s sake! They were huge! They’re using our own players as bats and shit. The pitcher’s throwing arm
is twice the size of his other arm. Everybody on our team
is too petrified to swing the bat. “God damn it, Mark! Lean into it
or something! Take one for the team!” (Whooosh-thud!) “Holy smokes! Did that kid
just get murdered by a baseball?!” “Nah, I know a dead kid
when I see one, he’s all right!” “All right, Mark, that’s what I’m talking about!
That’s as good as a hit!” “As good as a hit, Mark!” “If he dies, he dies.” By the third inning we’re
getting completely destroyed! People are leaving the bleachers and shit. “Hey, Billy, if I wanted to see a bunch
of guys get their asses pounded in..” “I would’ve just stayed in prison!
Thanks for nothing!” Our coach is at total denial. He just starts swearing at the umpire. “God damn it, blue! Why don’t you just
give them the trophy, you crooked asshole!” “Hey, buddy, that’s not a nice thing to say!” “I’m gonna throw you out of the game!” And just like that (Whhhoooop!) our coach got thrown out of the game. And now we’re just standing
there, with no coach. “Well, what are we gonna do now, coach ourselves?” “Hey, Dennis! Uhm… I’ve seen
a crippled kid swing the bat better!” “It’s no wonder why your mom has
a new boyfriend every other week!” By the fifth inning we’re down by, like, 15 runs. The umpire is looking at us, like: “Look, we all got shit to do today, right?
I’m just gonna call the game, they won!” “We have won, victory, comrades!” “Glory to the USSR!” So we got mercied in our championship game,
which is quite an embarrassing way to lose. Our coach is in the parking lot, like: “What happened? Did you guys
rally together and win the game?!” “Uhm, no. We lost so bad,
that we weren’t even allowed to finish the game.” “Oh, well, that’s the way it goes.” “Just remember, I’m proud of you, guys!
And you guys played your best, all right?” “Except for you, Dennis!
You played like shit!” “It’s no wonder why your mom is out there,
selling her body on the streets.” https://brewstew.com Special Thanks to:
Christopher Bowlin, Riley Osborne, Benjamin Nelson. Special thanks to: (These wonderful people) &
All the other patrons! https://www.patreon.com/brewstew https://shop.makeship.com/collections/brewstewfilms