shoddy compliments

So yesterday I was complaining about how my coach was being a major douche cake and accusing me of slacking off. The whole team was pissed at him, so today we decided to 'listen to our coach, and take practice seriously'. We planned on not smiling, not talking, not laughing, simply listening to what he said and repeating it like the robits he wants us to be. This was our attempt to make him realize that practice would be boring as hell if we didn’t have fun. Was this an immature plan? Of cousre, but were high schoolers, what does maturity matter to us anyhow?

We did put forth a good effort to remain serious throughout the whole practice, but alas, my team is incapable of not laughing and talking and smiling, we’re too much of a happy bunch. We joked around with each other, but when our coach spoke to us, we took on somewhat of a stern demeanor, not looking him in the eyes and responding with short, terse, one word answers.

We started with some shooting drills, during which he complimented me on several occasions. Now, compliments from him are few and far between, so this was quite the rare occasion. He also speaks in a caustic tone that suggests everything he says is spoken with contempt, so distinguishing these compliments from all his other shit proves a rigorous task. During this drill he also attempted to joke around with me, engage in conversation and what not. But his light jokes about my Hannah Montana sweatband could not thaw the ice from my shoulder, and I brushed him off the same way he had brushed away my efforts the day before.

We were doing some drills and my coach was playing on my team. While my team was sitting out, he began to remark on my performance today, telling me that I had played well and saying that my runs in and out of space and angled runs to the goal had been done well, ‘exactly what he was looking for’ I believe is what he said. I had no way to respond to this. While I am totally pissed at him, I hate to not thank someone for a compliment. But I just looked forward at the ongoing game, pretending that my water bottle was prohibiting me from answering. 

I can’t quite explain the emotion I felt from his praise. It wasn’t a joyous one, or one of satisfaction, nor one of hatred. I suppose the best word I have to describe it is indifference. His respect meant nothing to me because I had no respect for his opinion of me. I remember he once told me while practicing headers to do it well to make him proud. I told him I had no desire to make him proud. He then told me to do it to make myself proud, and I responded by telling him that a good header wouldn’t make me proud either. I suppose this feeling of indifference only reaffirmed what I already knew. 

I don’t work hard to please my coach, my teachers, or even anyone else. I do it for my own self satisfaction. Perhaps that is a bit vain, but true nonetheless.

Peace. 

by the way this is my 100th post. 

im no FDR but i wouldn't call myself a Taylor either.