The New Coach

The New Coach

Harry Mingus took a sip from his energy drink bottle.

“Have you met the new coach yet?” he said to his friend Lannerman Green.

Lannerman shook his head. “Nope. Have you?”

“Nah. Heard a lot about him though. They reckon he’s a tough one.”

“Probably just what we need then,” said Lannerman as he tied his shoe. “Things have been getting too slack around here.”

A voice boomed out from behind them and the locker room went silent. “And who told you that, Mingus?”

Harry and Lannerman turned to behold the speaker, a short, barrel-chested man with receding hair cut ultra short, shoulders that needed no padding, and a face that might have seen a hundred fights. They both knew this was their introduction to the coach.

Harry stood up quickly. “Uh, dunno, Coach Bailey. Just heard it in conversation, I guess.”

The coach snorted. “Hmph. You some kinda chicken that you hang around with all the gossiping hens? Well, not in my team, you don’t, Mingus. Don’t wanna hear any more rumours from you, thanks very much. Your job is to do as I tell you and keep your trap shut.”

He turned then and spoke to the gathered players. “I’ll tell you what tough is. I know each one of you by name. Been reading the lists and I know your faces like the back of my hand. And what I say in this team, goes. Any one of you steps outa line, and he’s gone. Like that.” He snapped his fingers. “No forgiveness. I forget faces as quick as they cross me. Now get dressed and get out on that field. Now.”

Then he was gone and the team readied themselves frantically.

Lannerman grinned ruefully at Harry. “I guess you were right. He’s tough.”


Word count: 297
For Daily Flash Fiction Challenge, 04.18.24
Prompt: 300 word story, must contain the words chicken, bottle, shoe.