Now seeking candidates with the heart of a snake and the integrity of a loose piece of bologna. This human equivalent of holding chewed gum in your hand will be responsible for ruining the sport of basketball for over 200 youth in and around the Lincoln Township area. They will report to the Township Recreation Supervisor, who also sucks.
The optimal candidate will have a passion for bias, particularly against children who are meant to be winners and their esteemed coaches, such as Steve Provenza of Provenza’s Pizza. Particularly, they should have a penchant for kicking people out of games for having perfectly respectful conversations at totally normal volumes about the rules of the sport they pretend to care a lick about.
This is a flexible position, in that you can decide when you are going to do any damn work even though you’re getting paid for it. Each game is one-hour long, and the employee, it seems, may legally wait 20 minutes before getting off their ass to make some damn calls against the reigning champion Jim Lemon's Kia Dealership team.
Those who have previous experience disappointing (i.e. anyone who orders a “Venti” instead of a “Large” at Starbucks, people who carry umbrellas around instead of taking on the rain head-first, and the oldest Provenza son) are encouraged to apply.
Must demonstrate absolutely no knowledge of basketball. Applicants should attach a worksheet where they incorrectly labeled a horseshoe as a basketball to show competency in this area.
Must possess significant experience in poor decision-making. Candidates without a strong background in this area may be asked to complete an interview where they absolutely tank every question.
Must have a minimum of 5 years of theater experience (Broadway or equivalent preferred) in acting like you didn’t just see that big kid elbow the star player/youngest Provenza son.
Arrive at the gymnasium with a sufficient amount of time prior to tip-off to spend on your phone instead of pumping the flattened basketballs with air before gameplay begins.
Maintain harsh standards of play, enforcing excessive amounts of fouls and violations against Provenza’s Pizza.
Keep a straight-face while allowing Jim Lemon’s Kia kids to play what one can only assume is an entirely different sport, perhaps a new mix of rugby and bowling, called something embarrassing like “bugby.”
Mentor and support youth, specifically number 11, little Jim Jr., through his tough time faking that foul when the opposing team was practically in a different zip code.
Coordinate regularly with the scorekeeper to ensure both parties ignore their more pressing obligation in a sad attempt at friendship or sadder attempt at romance.
Make calls on the court with the ill-founded, brazen confidence of a clown in a court-house without listening to a helpful coach’s reasonable corrections.
Enforce standard foul shot proceedings, except when your beloved Jim Jr. steps up to shoot, at which time the line has magically moved a foot closer to the net.
Move around the court quickly to keep up with gameplay while simultaneously delegitimizing every doctor that has ever given you an eye check-up by missing what’s happening in front of your worthless face.
Thoroughly destroy all fond memories of the game that has been valued in the Provenza family for generations, the sport that leads to the only expressions of fondness from Provenza fathers that their kids will ever earn.
Recruit replacement after being embarrassed at own inadequacy when a prolific coach uses your surprisingly breakable arms to demonstrate Jim Jr’s total foul.
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