‘fuck’, “—you’re going to sit there and let me take this away from you? Just like that?” he growled. “Yeah, I am. What do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to beg you? Get mad? Throw a fit and stomp off? I understand. I get it. I played one bad game; I’m not going to play two. That’s fine. It’s your tone and choice of where we’re having this conversation that I have a problem with.” He might have started pulling on the shortest of short ends of his hair in what was a mix of annoyance and frustration. “Yes, goddamnit, get mad! If my coach had ever even hinted at taking me out of a game, I
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