Gym Teachers

Posted: February 24, 2012 in Uncategorized
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We love our gym teachers don’t we? They teach us everything about physical education possible. We learn the rules of soccer, the proper way to bench press, and how to keep our mouths shut when they stare at us in the showers a little too long. Never settle for anything less than $50 to keep quiet. Today I would like to discuss the gym teachers I had. I’ll try to keep the lesbian jokes to a minimum.

(His name’s Butch, he has a lesbian haircut, yet Eddie Munster is not a lesbian)

Mr. B – For the sake of protecting the guilty, I will not reveal real last names. With Mr. B, that isn’t a problem. He always went by Mr. B. I don’t think he had a real last name, just an initial. Like how some Chinese people have the last names Oh or Yu. He was a nice guy. His hair was fake though. It would flap in the wind while he warned us about giving our teams a two point penalty for talking while he as talking. As great as an elementary school gym teacher as he was, he gave me a lot of misconducts. I got one for excessive celebration after scoring a goal in soccer and another for making a save in floor hockey with my foot. Goalies were only allowed to make saves with their sticks. Mr. B, you didn’t know shit about sports did you?

Mrs. P – She was the counterpart of Mr. B. The bad cop to his good cop. The bitch to his Santa Claus. I think her being mean turned a lot of students gay. She was a real witch. I remember her yelling at two of my friends for drinking too long at the water fountain. What kind of Nazi does that? We had some rule that you could only drink from the water fountain for 5 seconds. That’s barely enough time to quench thirst from a vicious game of crab soccer. She ended up in my middle school and all of a sudden was really nice. This was the same year as a teacher’s strike. My mystery friend would claim that it was because “she got her big fat paycheck.” I think that was true. Now Mrs. P could upgrade her lesbian haircut from butch to lipstick.

Mr. V – This man was everybody’s favorite gym teacher of all-time. He was the cool guy in his 40s who acted like a retarded kid in his teens. Rumor had it that he played minor league baseball for the St. Louis Cardinals in the 1980s as a short stop. He would have made it to the majors but Ozzie Smith blocked his path. I heard the same thing, but it was that he was so superstitious that he couldn’t give up his baseball number. Who knows? Mr. V would take out the male students during recess to play games of football. He loved being around young males. If he didn’t have a smoking hot daughter I would have been sure he lived in a house full of young males obsessed with football. He also loved short shorts and owned a Tim Couch jersey. Never before has Tim Couch been referenced anywhere. Never again will he be.

(Stop gloating. I’m the only one who remember who you are)

Mr. J – The man who inspired so much entertainment for me. I never even had him as a teacher yet I’ve written 3 movies, 5 television shows, and a book based around him as the central character. Okay, it’s not really about him and the character being portrayed as him is nothing like the real man. He wasn’t an evil bastard like I make him out to be. My only memory of him was one day I was wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt and he raised his fist at me and said “Go Steelers!” Mr. J only read half of everybody’s shirts. That’s why he’s such an inspiration on my life.

Mrs. J – I’d like to say no relation to Mr. J but I’d be lying. She was the wife of Mr. J. The fucktoy, if you will. I didn’t like her. She made fat jokes about me to one of her classes. What a whore. If my 7th grade year wasn’t horrible enough I had teachers attacking me for having no self-control. I had her for health class a few months later and she was never nasty to me then. I guess she realized I was nothing more than a quiet fat kid trying to make it through life without blowing myself up. Still, a murder suicide would not upset me. I know your former mailman bitch! I could have your mail sent somewhere else if I really want to.

Ms. S – The stereotype of all gym teachers. If the lack of an “r” in her title doesn’t give it away, Ms. S was a legendary lesbian. She was short, had grey hair, had the voice of a parrot, and didn’t know the difference between a badminton racket or a softball bat. She never aged either. I guess that isn’t so remarkable because she already looked to be the age of dead. Every day she would go outside with a thermometer and check the temperature. Sometimes she’d smile. Sometimes it was a frown. I never asked why she was doing this because that would involve chatting with her. My favorite memory of her was the time we had the activity of “walking” in gym class. Yeah, they’d have us walk through the park. I thought it would be funny if while going through the parking lot I went to my car and pulled out a bowl, a box of cereal, and some milk. Gym was the first class of the day and they always said how important breakfast was. I was eating a big bowl of cereal in front of her and she didn’t say a thing. I didn’t get in trouble for what completely backfired on me. Never try eating milk and cereal outside in 20 degree weather. Your hands will freeze and the hot girl you’re trying to make laugh will scowl at you for not taking things more seriously.

(I once was going to try to catch a Frisbee in my mouth to impress another girl during gym class. I heard she liked dogs, so I figured…)

  1. GRARG says:

    Best post ever.

    • mooselicker says:

      I forgot to mention that there’s a parody song that exists based around Mr. V to the tune of “Man, I Feel Like A Woman.” We really were a couple of hacks back then weren’t (aren’t) we?

  2. Addie says:

    No, really. I think I’m in love. Not in a ‘ew’ way, more in a “He is about the funniest person I know” which equals either a) you really are that funny or b) I don’t know many funny people. I’m going with a) since I do know funny people and you are way funnier than the deli guy over at Whole Foods. WAY funnier.

    • mooselicker says:

      Well thank you 🙂

      It’s common knowledge that most people who go into the business of salted sliced meats have senses of humor. How can you not? If you’ve ever scooped out chicken salad and had to weigh it, you’re a funny person.

  3. Pete Howorth says:

    My gym teacher, or P.E. teacher was a prick. He used to punish us by kicking a ball down the other end of the pitch and telling us to fetch it. I used to tell him to do one and did my own thing. Then there was that time I pretended he dislocated my thumb when I shook his hand (I can do that as Im double jointed) so we’d never gotten along since that moment.

    Though, he had a heart attack in the middle of the basketball court a few years after I left school in front of the class he was teaching so I kinda feel bad now.

    Morbid I know.

  4. Lisa says:

    “A vicious game of crab soccer…” Brings back the memories, doesn’t it? Lol! My wrists were so weak. Crab Soccer just about destroyed me for life. Ms. S with the short hair and voice like a parrot – we ALL had that variety. They were like aliens. When your a teenager, you just marvel and hope to God that doesn’t happen to you.
    Good stuff : )

    • mooselicker says:

      Ms. S has spanned at least 5 generations that I know of. She looks exactly the same as she did in her yearbook photo from 1988. I think they make clones of her in a factory then ship her out.

  5. Lily says:

    Gah I was going to comment about crab soccer but my mom beat me. Such a quality game. I was notorious for standing around and doing absolutely nothing during gym. I always heard “Get in the game, LaBute!” Ugh I detest when people call me by my last name. I actually always had good gym teachers though, so I guess I’ve been pretty blessed. Peace and blessings.

    • mooselicker says:

      I never realized how universal crab soccer was. I hope you too used a giant yellow ball. I hated having to use the scooters. I was a tall fat kid so I wasn’t very immobile in these situations. I’m pretty sure I remember a boot going to a kid’s face once during crab soccer. Guess it didn’t make enough national news to end the game.

  6. I am very impressed that you remember the initials of every coach you had! I can’t remember ONE. I didn’t really have coaches in high school so I blame it on the time gap. Drama got to replace all of my PE credits.

    • mooselicker says:

      I remember everyone’s name. That’s the another womanly feature I seem to have, a great memory. I even remember birthdays of enemies. Mostly so I can give them a Trojan Horse type surprise.

  7. Thanks. I had forgotten how emotionally damaged I was from gym class.

  8. tootsiewoo says:

    Oh, how I’ve missed you.

    I have hated every gym teacher I’ve had as a rule ever since I was publicly flogged by one in the 3rd grade for walking the mile run. Bitch. 3rd year old me should have told Mrs. B to go choke on a fat one and cry about my disappointing her over a Sports Illustrated while listening to the Indigo Girls and watching Ellen.

    • mooselicker says:

      You’re back! I missed you too. For weeks I’ve stood atop my hairline (I have a widow’s peak) waiting for your return.

      I never ran the mile. I always found someone else to walk with. You know way too many things about lesbians. Are you Mrs. B?

  9. renxkyoko says:

    I liked my dance PE teacher best. She was hot, and I’m not lesbian.

  10. Emily He says:

    My last name is He! HAHAHA (“Oh” is a Korean last name i think, sorry, I just HAD to be a jerk and correct you there…)

    Now that I’m looking back on my gym teachers, all the women really were very buff ladies! And now that i think of it, one of them looked like a body-builder only I didn’t know what a body-builder was then so I couldn’t compare her to one! She always wore makeup and had straightened blonde hair. So she was a fancy body-builder. Scary (but she was nice, and had a deep raspy voice). As for my favorite male gym teacher, he became our vice principal! Mr. O. He was da bomb.

    • mooselicker says:

      I know of another gym teacher who became a principal, Mr. S. There’s nothing interesting about that.

      I bet she was a bodybuilder. A failed one. One who had to get a job playing kickball because she couldn’t quite build that body up big enough. What makes a female become a bodybuilder? Too strange.

      Thank you for the correction on the last name Oh. I knew two best friends whose last names were Oh and Yu. I knew more of them than actually knowing them. If I was friends I would call them “Oh Yu” and then laugh.

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