POV: You Get Humiliated by Your Coach and Teammates for Getting So Fat

Alright Wolves, we’ve got an uphill battle this season, I know you’re all aware of that. Our conference is stacked this year, and the Eastern Conference isn't looking too shabby either. Their most recent recruits were putting up fantastic numbers their senior years and, as you know, one of our best potential rookies ended up at Petterville State when we ran into some trouble with the scholarship financing. I still don’t know how we’re supposed to accommodate that, but regardless. 

As you also know, one of our best scorers was injured last season and has been out in recovery for nearly a year at this point. That means we need to go twice as hard in our end-of-summer conditioning, not just to prepare ourselves further, but to help everyone on the team be ready to perform at their absolute best. I don’t know where the hell-  

Oh. Excuse me, this is a closed practice. The cafeteria is in the next building. 

What? No, we’re not doing any walk-ons this season, and frankly, you don't really seem like the type to play- 

Oh my god. Oh my god, I didn't even recognize you. Jesus. What happened to you, are you kidding me? You're huge. I mean you’ve just exploded, how is all this even possible? You were the best on the team just last year, you were the fastest endurance player we had! 

God, I can barely see you in there under all that fat. Your cheeks got so chubby I couldn't even tell it was you. What did you do, just sit on your ass and stuff your face for a full year? You’re bulging out everywhere, I've never seen someone pack on so much weight so quickly. 

This is ridiculous, this is a fucking disaster. I was just telling all your teammates, who, by the way, stuck to their diet and exercise plans, who were actually disciplined and focused in the offseason, exactly how difficult it was going to be to make headway this season, and this is how you show up? 

Why would you even waddle in here like this, don't you think this is a slap in the face to everyone who’s worked so hard to make this team what it is? God, you must've eaten your self respect right along with all those donuts, didn't you? 

Ugh. I guess I don't have to ask why you’re not wearing your uniform, huh? The last time you wore that uniform you had a six-pack and toned thighs, you’d probably burst the seams just looking at your old sizes. I mean Jesus, you probably couldn't squeeze into a double XL, much less your old uniform. 

Why would you even show up today? Why would you tell me you could play when you knew you’d eaten yourself into a tubby little blob?

No, don't give me any excuses. I don't wanna hear it, I can't. The university press just did an interview with me about our upcoming season and I called you our secret weapon. Now you probably couldn't even get through a day of practice, you probably couldn't run a lap. Who am I kidding? You probably couldn't walk a lap. When you got in here I could tell you were out of breath just from the walk over here, it's why I thought you were just some random fatass who got lost looking for more snacks. 

No. Don't call me coach. I coach athletes, not bloated tubs of lard who can't put down the fork. 

Come closer, let me see you. 

Well, there's no point in being shy now, you clearly weren't shy at the buffet. You weren't shy about stuffing your face 24/7 and ruining the hard work you’ve put in over your entire athletic career. Have you considered that? That you’ve thrown away what you worked for your whole life just to stuff your face with pizza? I’m not even going to ask you if it was worth it. I can see every roll of fat plain as day through those skin-tight clothes, clearly it was more than worth it for you. How did you get so greedy and lazy, you were on fire when I met you. 

God, it's even worse up close. 

Yes, I am doing this in front of everyone. Do you know why? You didn't just blimp out and destroy your own figure, you let down every single person in this room. We trusted you, we depended on you. All you had to do was stop cramming your mouth full of junk and you couldn't even manage that, so yes, I'm doing this in front of everyone. 

Lift up your shirt. I wanna see your gut. I want to actually see all the damage you did wobbling out in front of you. 

Yes, I'm serious. 

It's embarrassing? Getting as huge as you are is embarrassing enough. At this point, there's nothing you could do to humiliate yourself more than porking out like this already has. I mean, honestly, why would you even show up today? Did you actually think that nobody would notice all this? Did you actually think we’d look at the massive chubster waddling into the room and recognize the athlete you used to be? I know you can’t actually think that. 

Oh my god, look at how red your face is getting. You did. You’re in denial, aren't you? You don't know how big you’ve gotten.

Well, then this little demonstration is as much for you as it is for everyone else. It's a cautionary tale for all the actually dedicated team members in this room, and a much needed wake up call for you. Lift up your shirt. 

I said don't argue, and I said don't call me coach. 

Show me what you did to yourself, show everybody in this room why they're going to have to work ten times as hard to have a winning record this season because of your gluttony. 

There you go. 

Oh please, give it up. The sucking in? It barely does anything and your belly is actually quivering from the strain of that flabby core trying to hold back all that fat, just let it out. You can't hold it for much longer anyway. I can tell. 

Wow. 

Look at all that, look at how far it pushes out. Your gut is actually starting to hang. I mean, how is this possible? You were in perfect shape just last year. 

Come here. Closer. 

C’mon I'm not gonna bite. Although I guess I should be worried that you will. Seems you can’t go more than 5 minutes without a little snack. Come here. 

God, the way my hand just sinks into it. You’ve gotten so soft. You’ve gotten so heavy, I mean your gut genuinely takes effort to lift. Look at the way it bounces. 

Is everyone seeing this? Take notes, take videos if you want. This should be all the motivation you need to stick to the nutritionist's prescribed diets and make sure that you’re not slacking on your conditioning. Because apparently, you can go from star athlete to piggish blob in the blink of an eye. 

You still look so embarrassed. Why are you embarrassed? Why is your face so flushed, why are you sweating? This must be what you wanted. Every time you pushed another slice of pizza into your greedy mouth you must've thought about the fact that you’d have to face us all again. And you didn't care. You just kept gorging and gorging while you got fatter and fatter. So if you didn’t care then, why care now? 

Turn around. Give everybody a better view of all that blubber. 

Do you know what you’ve done to us? It's not just what you did to yourself, it's what you did to us. You were supposed to carry this team on your back, and now you're so fat our rivals would laugh if I actually tried to play you. They’d think it was a prank. They’d think there was no way someone your size has ever worked out in their life, much less made a team like this. 

I can't believe this. I need to sit down. Our season is doomed, we’re completely screwed. You screwed us. Why couldn't you just have a little self-control, what’s wrong with you? What made you hungry enough to eat yourself into this? 

I can't even look at you. Pull your shirt back down. 

Oh, so covering all that flab with a straining t-shirt is the one instruction you’re quick to follow, huh? Or should I say a straining crop top? Look at the way that sliver of your belly hang is visible because of how small those clothes are on you. 

Are you proud of yourself? This has to be what you wanted, huh? Because if you didn't want this, you would’ve stopped when you felt yourself growing so quickly. And don't try to pull the denial thing again, you and I both know what you’ve turned yourself into. Everybody in this room knows, everybody that you waddle past on the sidewalk knows. I know you feel how heavy and squishy your whole body has gotten. I know you feel all that weight wobbling and jiggling every time you move. 

I know you feel how tight all your clothes are. I know you have to struggle for a good ten minutes everyday to get your pants buttoned. And you probably unbutton them as soon as you start eating, down you? All that gut probably can't take the pressure for more than a few seconds. Have you burst the buttons off any of your clothes yet?

That's a question, answer me. 

Of course you have. And I'm sure you’ve seen the looks from other people who know you. Your family, your friends. I'm sure I’m not the first person to stare at that overfed body with shock and disgust, I’m sure I'm not the first person who failed to recognize you after you basically doubled your size. I’m sure I'm not the first person to wonder how you could possibly do this to yourself, how you let yourself go this badly. In fact, everyone in this room is wondering the same. 

Right, team? 

And you won't even look anyone in the eye and admit what you did, admit how much of a tubby little porker you’ve turned into. You just keep staring at the ground and blushing like that's gonna fix anything, like that's gonna work off all the weight you piled on that once perfect body. 

As a matter of fact, it's unacceptable. 

Look at the team. Look at them while they take in how big you got, how enormous and swollen your whole body is. You owe them that much. All that pigging out you did ruined their season. Every time you ordered more and more food you were spitting in the face of all their hard work.

Tell them you're sorry. Tell them you're sorry for getting so fat, you owe it to them. 

Stop mumbling. You think a half-assed apology is going to make up for all this blubber?

God, I can actually grab and shake your love handles and it leaves your whole body just wobbling, look at all this. You think saying ‘I'm sorry’ makes this better? 

No. You need to confess. Confess to everyone in this room exactly what you’ve been doing the whole time out you were on the injury list. Explain exactly why we’ll be getting crushed this season. Because you’re a pig. Because you couldn't stop stuffing your bloated face. 

Well? What do you have to say for yourself? 

You can't? You can't admit what you’ve done? You can't admit that you’re an inflated caricature of who you used to be, that you're a pile of fat so oversized that the first thing people feel when they look at you is shock? 

Well. If you can't admit it, it must not be true, right? Because how big of a delusional porker would you have to be to actually deny how much weight you’ve gained? So, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe my eyes are deceiving me, maybe you didn't bulge out into a complete tub. Maybe everyone in this room is wrong. Maybe you’re still in playing shape. 

So, let's go. 

We were just about to head outside for day one of conditioning, so let's go. You’ll be coming with us. And you’ll complete every stretch, every drill, and run every lap until you can admit that you’re an overstuffed fatty who did this to yourself. 

Oh, now you look scared. You should've been scared to wobble your way into this room looking like that. But I can hardly blame you. If i was your size, i’d be scared of a little exercise too. Spending more than an hour without some greasy junk food in your hands is probably your worst nightmare, huh? Well, let's make it come true. 

Wolves, you know the drill. It's cardio day, so we jog to the track to warm up, then it's sprints, suicides, a little ab work, and a mile run at the end. Let's see how long your former teammate will last, huh? And don’t be afraid to give a little encouragement. A little poke in the belly if you see any slacking off. It's our responsibility to remind your ‘teammate’ of exactly what they’ve become. All right, head out. 

And you. I’ll be jogging right next to you. I wanna watch every second, I wanna hear every huff and puff. Go ahead. 

Already gasping right off the bat, huh? For everyone else this is a conversational pace, just enough to get the blood pumping, but this is probably as fast as you can go, isn't it? Look at all the people walking around campus. Look at the way they can't help but do a double take at all your fat jiggling and shaking while you try your best to force those tubby thighs past each other. 

Do you like all the attention? You must just love it. I know you feel everyone's eyes on you when you waddle around in public in clothes that tight, I know you feel the shame of morphing from a tight, muscular athlete to a walking blob of blubber and grease. You must like it. You must want people to look at you and tell you how big you're getting, look at you and let you know you need to lay off the Krispy Kreme and hit the gym. 

That's the only reason I'm treating you like this. You basically waddled into the locker room with a sign hanging from your neck that said ‘humiliate me’. You shoved all that gut, those hamish upper arms, those thick, wobbling thighs, your double chin and fat neck, and a body so puffy I couldn't even tell it was you right in everyone's face. You must want some motivation, don’t you? 

I’d tell you to answer me, but I don't think you could if you wanted to. We’ve been lightly jogging for less than a minute and you look like you’re about to collapse, so I'll answer my own question. You do. You do want motivation to turn all this around, to finally stop binging every waking second and actually get your body back before you get so fat it’s irreversible. And what's better motivation than tough love? Really tough. Admitting is the first step. So I'm going break you down fatty, I'm going work you until you admit just how big you’ve gotten. 

A break? You need a break already? Sure. Just as soon as you tell me what a porker you are. 

Go ahead. I’ll even tell you what to say. Say, ‘Coach. I’m sorry for stuffing my face every day with no regard for the effect it would have on the team. I'm sorry I'm such a fat, greedy ball of lard that I'm not prepared to play this season and I'm putting the whole team in jeopardy. I’m sorry I'm so enormous that I can't even jog for a minute straight. I’m sorry my whole body is covered in layers of fat that undulate uncontrollably when I make a pathetic attempt to get some exercise. I’m sorry you and the whole team have to watch me jiggle around because I'm too humiliated by my own body to admit what I've done to myself. I’m sorry I'm such a pig.’

Go ahead. Apologize. 

Nothing? Silence? Then keep jogging, tubby. 

God, the way you're wheezing. You used to run a 6-minute mile. Now you look like you’re gonna pass out before we even reach the track. Look how much further ahead everyone else is? And notice how they're actually talking? Well, laughing, really. This is so easy for them that they have no problem jogging and laughing about how fat you got at the exact same time. Meanwhile, you can't even jog and keep your shirt down. Look at the way it's riding up.

No no, don’t pull it down. I want all that lard on display. 

You're slowing down a bit, huh? This is barely a jog anymore, you're basically walking. Getting a little too tired?

Well, all you have to do is apologize. Tell me you're sorry for getting so fat. Tell me you're sorry for eating yourself into obesity, tell me you’re just a mindless pig with no self-control who cares more about food than anything else. More than their team, more than their last season, even more than their health. 

Tell me. Tell me you risked everything just because of how badly you wanted another pint of ice cream. 

Not ready? Then don’t stop. You don't get to stop. Not till you say what I wanna hear. I can’t believe you did this to yourself. I can't believe you did this to your teammates. 

Fine. Walk if you have to, but we’re not stopping until you’ve learned your lesson. Until you grab all that blubber with two hands in front of everyone and admit that you’ve gotten massive. 

Not that slow, piggy. At least keep up a good pace. How can you be struggling through a short walk yet refuse to admit how out of shape you are? How is it even possible to be so deeply in denial? Last year you would've been at the front of the pack. Now everyone is so far ahead we can barely see them, they're about to turn the corner and reach the track. They’ll be done with sprints before you can even lumber your way over there. 

Oh c’mon. Stop torturing yourself. You look like you're about to faint and you’re way too heavy for me to carry. Just admit it. Admit you packed it on. Admit you have no self-control, no willpower. Admit that you’re so addicted to your own piggish gluttony that you ate yourself into a sentient pile of rolls. 

Fine. Then keep it moving. No breaks. 

Finally. See how long it took us to get here? See how all of your teammates are running sprints with perfect form, how lean and toned they look in their uniforms that actually fit? Are you ready to apologize for all your gluttony? 

No? Sprints it is. 

As a matter of fact, let's get a few more eyes on the situation. 

Wolves. Circle up. This inconsiderate donut addict who used to be your teammate is gonna run some sprints for us until they're ready to apologize for ballooning up like this. And you know what? Now that I think about it, you didn't just let down the team. You let down the entire school. The whole athletic department. You owe a few more people an apology, don't you?

Wolves, which teams have practices that run at the same time as ours? 

Girls swim? Perfect. 

Run and go get them, tell their coach I just need them out here for a few minutes for a demonstration. 

You hear that, tubby? Even more people are going to watch you struggle and wobble and gasp for air. Last chance to apologize before an even bigger audience is watching you make your pathetic attempt to pretend like you're still an athlete. While everyone watches you realize just how far gone you are, how bad your little weight problem has gotten. 

Oh, that's hilarious. You actually think you can do it? You think you can run your sprints like you used to? You really are a delusional little pig. All right. If you say so. You know how close the lap pool is, the girls' swim team should be here any second. 

Look at that, right on time. Speak of the devil, I guess. 

You sure you dont wanna back out? Make a quick apology to everyone you let down and waddle away in shame before your humiliation gets compounded? 

Alright porker. Your call. 

Hi ladies! I know our practices have never been combined, but I have a little treat for you guys today. Anyone remember last year's lead scorer? Brought us all the way to the championship? Well, you’re looking at ‘em. 

It's ok girls, don't be afraid to giggle. I see the looks on all your faces and trust me, I couldn't believe it either. But our star player here still seems to think that their weight gain wasn't so bad. 

That's what you think, isn't it? A whole field full of people who couldn't even recognize you because of how much weight you’ve gained and you actually convinced yourself that it wasn't that bad. Are you ready to say sorry for getting so fat? Or are you really going to try a sprint?

They’re gonna try it, everyone! They’re gonna do our normal cardio day sprint drills just like they’ve always have, and we’re all gonna watch. 

Go ahead and start on the line. Do you hear everyone laughing at you? You haven't even started yet, it's just the mental image of somebody that heavy trying to waddle as quickly as they can that’s so funny to them. You got yourself into this. You ate yourself into this. And now you don’t have a choice. 

Ready? Go. 

C’mon, run piggy, run! You can go faster than that. It's a sprint, not a waddle. Everyone is watching you, nobody can take their eyes off of the spectacle. How are you slowing down already? You're barely a third of the way through the first sprint, how are you possibly tired?

All your teammates are watching. The whole girls' swim team is watching, don’t you want to prove that you aren't too big to play? Don’t you wanna prove that you haven't been that much of a greedy pig that’s too fat and helpless to control themselves? 

Wow. You’re gonna stop already? You’re done? That's so humiliating. Waddle back over here and admit in front of everyone that you can’t hack it anymore. That you got too big. 

C’mon piggy, we don't have all day. 

The way you’re gasping for breath is so pathetic. You’re so fat. You’re in such terrible shape it's almost funny. Or it would be if it didn't reflect on our team so poorly. If we forget that the new layer of fat covering your entire body is permanent. 

Go ahead. Do what I told you to do. Grab all that blubber on your middle with both hands and shake it while you apologize to your team for getting so fat. 

Do it. 

You know nobody can hear you. Louder. And shake your belly harder, I wanna see all that lard really bounce. 

Just ‘I'm sorry?’ That's not good enough. You know what I want you to say. 

Do you need a reminder? Because we can all stand here all day, just staring at how huge you made yourself while you pant and sweat. 

Fine. Reminder it is. 

Tell everyone here that you’re sorry for being such a greedy, overfed, swollen ball of blubber who can’t think about anything but their next meal. Tell them you’re sorry for stuffing yourself into obesity so quickly that the gut you're shaking right now is covered in stretch marks. Tell them that you knew better, you knew better than to let your gluttony get the best of you, but you did it anyway. 

If only an apology could suck all that lard out of you, huh? That lard that you pumped into yourself for a year straight. 

You’ve ruined your athletic career just like you ruined your body. You’re off the team. Effective immediately. 

Now waddle off my field piggy. You may as well head straight to the dining hall. I know all this exercise must’ve worked up an appetite.