I have an alarming report to bring before the Suspicious Activities Committee today.

Grin-22 bows his head respectfully towards the gathered assistant coaches, Skidmark, Denis and FrizzleFry, and glares with open hostility towards HeadCoach, a man he had recently beaten to within an inch of his life. The Detroit Way.

I was in a coffeeshop earlier today trying to secure some new business for the JFMAST franchise, following up on a tip from Skidmark about additional laundry needing to be outsourced, when I heard something terrible that stopped me right in my tracks.

Corktown assistant coach, MikeTyson, one-time #4 VIP now only a lower mid-table contributor, was overhead remarking around his super hot, extra skinny, decaf mocha that, "We should totally do some maths to group the quick clickers in the same pools".

At first, I didn't think it was him or that if it was, it had been at least said in jest. Math dorkery is a serious offence in Detroit, as this Committee is well aware, and I wouldn't have thought someone in his position in Detroit would ever be seen openly advocating for book learning of any kind, knowing the penalty for such a crime. Assuming it was a joke, I moved towards the table he was sharing with sisterIvoryDarkmore, who was, as usual, clad head to toe in JFMAST colours, drinking her Americano from the limited edition FrizzleFry 'Sizzle Sizzle' Coffee Cup, but Mike further compounded his blasphemy moments later, stating to her, and I quote, complete with silly lisp, "Let peothple with no hand eye / click co-ordination get some".

Horrified, I performed an immediately frisk for signs of a compass, protractor and non-shatter ruler, the hallmarks of a real nerd, and fortunately he was clean. Naturally I carried out a fingertip test and I am pleased to report that these did not carry any ink smudges or residue of any other non-athletic pursuits. His degree of skin damage suggested at least 'adequate' levels of outdoor exposure too, which for sake of fairness, must be placed on record.

I hope this was just a one-off incident and note that he has spent time outside of Detroit recently, something that whilst frowned upon, isn't prohibited. I do however feel duty-bound to prevent the spread of such heretical ideology - contrary to one of the fundamental tenets of Mug City, 'No goober-like behaviour' - and would invite the Committee to make a ruling and, all being well, punishment for this aberration.

Grin-22 hadn't worked in a way to point out that FrenchieHorn was a dirty suit-thief before he finished speak, so he spat on the floor pretending it was her face.  

Skidmark scratches his chin in deep thought...

This is a perplexing case, to say the least. Mike appeared to incriminate himself, but there is no clear evidence of math dorkery beyond his own words. If it was a joke, I do not find it funny in the least. I suppose without evidence, we should give him the benefit of the doubt that it was simply an attempt, in very poor taste, to make a funny.

Not funny, Mike. Not fucking funny at all.

I move that Iron Mike be put under the direct supervision of Grin-22 in the laundry room as Apprentice Laundryman in Charge of Jizz Stains until such a time as he can prove to his teammates and the public at large that he is not some kind of dork.

Passes the gavel to the next Assistant Coach...

So what to do about this? For the sake of full transparency, should the public pantsing and other displays of toxic sports masculinity be dished out in public for all to see?  I don't see the purpose of any of this unless the humiliation is executed in a manner that could be enjoyed by all.  

While we're on the subject, my new assistant coach Henson just inquired about Shot Reports.  I almost spit my coffee in his face.  Counting, jotting down numbers, sending some out lame reports, we don't do that type of stuff here in Detroit.  

But he is a rookie here in our league.  I am confident he will adapt to our culture soon enough.  MikeTyson on the other hand has been with us long enough to know better though.  Very disappointing to hear.

I had the team doing deep squats at the JFMAST gym today. I, of course, led by example. By the end of the session I had an ass so swampy the National Guard was deployed to sandbag a perimeter around my power stance. And you're telling me, while we honored the Detroit way of life with a parade of ludicrous max reps and ultra-strength Arm & Hammer deoderant, MikeTyson was actively advocating to "do some maths"?!

Math dorks. Science nerds. They're all the same, men. They want to attack our way of life. We simply cannot entertain the idea that one of these goobers has found their way into our ranks. 

MikeTyson, do you have anything to say for yourself? Skidmark has moved for immediate quarantine procedures.

Iron Mike quietly seethed. 

"I have nothing to say in my defense coath... Grin-22 must be mistaken, I would never be able to go for a coffee with number 1 JFMAST groupie supporter sisterIvoryDarkmore as much like world renowned art thief FrenchieHorn she has spurned my advances thus far.

Iron Mikes eyes bulge as he hears Skidmark mentioning putting him under the direct supervison of the journeyman of the laundry room. 

"You guyth must be out of your thucking minds...I know where the bodies are buried. I know who on the team has been giving Mrs HeadCoath 'private' yoga lessons. I know who has been taking home laundry supplies to use for themselves. You would do well to not to trifle with me. I could spill all to the Herald of the underworld...Well I could if RonaldCarabbia wasn't on the missing list.

With that Iron Mike heads off to the JFMAST training facility to work the heavy bag & squat until he vomits. The thucking audacity of these guys. 

Yeah mention my name all you want. I only have to say a couple things .
You are now on the restraining order list. 
You can smear my bloodline all you want, those who actually know me, know you are lying about me. 

Grin is always so quick to jump into his automobile and shout NERD out of a car window. Whether this is true or not I don't really care. We need to assess my friend Grin's true motive in trying to take down Mike Tyson. My speculation is jealousy. Jealousy and greed. I'll be honest, I'm not even sure that Mike can even write, so how can he do maths? 

Whenever I ask Mike for assistance he always replies with “XXX” and that’s it. I’m not even sure what that is. Why would he be offering to give me “XXX “assistance when all I’m trying to do is ask for advice on my plumbing or help me move some of the couches around my hotel rooms?