Monologue for Coach

COACH. (Stands before his team, in the final moments before the opening pitch of their championship game.) Alright everyone, take a knee. Now, I don't want to oversell this but--well, this may be the single greatest moment in your lives. You might say, "Well, Coach, it's just the Coed-Recreational D-2 Softball Championship in the Suburban League." And if you said that? You'd be dead wrong. And, what's more, you would be sitting the bench, so does anyone wanna say that right now? Except for you, Smith. You're sitting the bench anyway. Say whatever you want.

I mean it--this is probably the most important thing you'll ever do. I mean, look at you guys, none of you are really going to do much after this anyway. As individuals, you're kind of a shabby group. And one or two of you smell bad. I'm just saying, I've noticed that in the dugout. And not to name any names, but Thompson and Brodesky, you two need to have one of those uncomfortable conversations with a counselor about B.O.

Anyway, as individuals, you don't amount to much, but as a team, I think we can win this. Well, I mean you can win this. I'm just gonna stand over here and yell at you. Which brings me to my next point: there is no "I" in "team." But there is an "A." And that "A" stands for, uh, Accuracy. Which you should have. Particularly when you throw the ball. There's also no "I" in "softball" though there is a double "L," which never made much sense to me, because you can get the same sound with just one "L."

In conclusion, if we lose, I am definitely--definitely, not going to seek revenge on our star pitcher. Now get out there and play ball!