If you’re reading this, chances are you’ve been treated unfairly before by a person you called a teammate. Maybe Jim at the office loves teasing you for your collection of Dr. Who bobbleheads despite it being the only thing that gets you through the day. Maybe Hank on your construction crew overheard you confiding in a friend about a private matter only to call attention to it so the whole crew now knows. Maybe Jane from your college days made fun of you incessantly for being a nerd to everyone else working on your group project, all the while electing not to do any of the group work herself.
Now, these are just examples that you probably have experienced sometime in the past month or year or so. All of it stems from a much more brutal time in our lives: middle school. If you never felt out of place in middle school and are currently a fully functioning and happy adult, you are some sort of demigod.
This poor Redditor is the perfect example of the torment we all go through, even when you’re one of the popular kids. After breaking his arm, one of his football teammates decided to outright degrade him in front of hundreds of people. Well, here’s what happens when you mess with the weak of body but the strong of mind. Enjoy!
Back in my public school days, starting in 1st grade(I was a big kid), I played tackle football. I kept with it for 8 years, despite hating most of my teammates.
One year, just before our schedule took off, I fully broke both bones in my arm. This left me in a rigid cast that went all the way to my shoulder, thus I was useless on the field and became the team ‘manager’. This meant filling the water tanks, washing uniforms, inflating footballs etc. (It also meant days off school for games, and other silly benefits).
I mentioned I hated my teammates. Up to this point, the only reason was because the way they treated my non-athletic friends. One night, while at our town’s high school football game, I added another reason to that list.
One teammate, we’ll call him DTD, decided it would be a great idea to come up behind me while I was watching the game and pull down my pants, push me over, then proceed to grab my feet and drag my (now bare) ass around for a solid minute.
(Having my dominant arm out of commission and the lack of footing meant I had zero way to defend myself. DTD was a class-a asshole of the worst public school caliber.)
Well DTD got bored eventually, and let me go and went off laughing with a couple of other teammates of mine. I got up, and pulled myself back together, despite my now bleeding ass cheeks and crushed ego and walked home. I then began plotting my revenge.
The next Monday, I had to wash the uniforms. Everyone’s gear was labeled, so I found DTD’s gear and took it to the bathroom. I proceeded to take a shit, then wipe my ass with his pants, lining up my crack where his would go. I then threw them in with the other gear, only I didn’t add much bleach. Post-dry, I also added some itch powder that I had from an old magic kit to his gear, as well as the other teammates that just stood and watched him that night.
I waited for practice, super anxious and semi-regretting my decision.
Well practice comes, and I am on the field filling waters with the assistant coaches when the entire offensive line, including DTD, makes a bee-line for me.
“Hey smokeyDaBandito, you need to do your job, the real players shouldnt have to do the maid’s job” (proceeds to show his backside with an larger-than-planned brown stain)
(I had rehearsed this) “Hey DTD, you need to learn to use toilet paper. Even bleach couldn’t remove your skidmarks”
Man that felt good, especially since his little posse and the coaches couldn’t contain their laughter. DTD just mumbled something and walked off. Part 2 hadn’t even started yet.
About 20min into practice, most of the offence has begun to feverishly scratch their asses and balls from the itch powder that has been jostled enough. I couldn’t help it, and I started laughing. DTD put 2 and 2 together and realized what I had done and begins running at me shouting obscenities.
The head coach intervenes. He pulls the 2 of us aside and I admit to the powder prank. Coach looks pissed, and DTD is pretty smug until Coach asks me why. I told the whole story, leaving out too much detail on the injury to my hind end.
Practice ended at its normal time and myself, coach, and all of my teammates that were involved were told to stay behind. Coach goes into this lecture about brotherhood and respect for a solid 5 minutes, then tells the others to run 2 miles in full gear.
When DTD finished his miles, coach calls him over and kicks him off the team.
Holy shit, did that feel awesome!