Coronavirus this, coronavirus that…it’s all you see on social media and the news. It’s scary stuff and we’re literally ONLY ONE WEEK into this entire shit show. The NBA felt like it suspended its season 10 years ago.

Did we step into a time warp? What year is it?! Who’s president?!

But you know what’s going to get us out of this quagmire? Family? Friends? Religion? VOODOO?! No no, of course not, those are all dead ends!

What’s really going to get us out of this rut is to laugh heartily at the past misfortunes of others who for some reason felt it necessary to share their innermost sporting humiliations with a guy who blogs under a sled pseudonym.

We asked for your submissions for the induction ceremony into the Coggin Toboggan Hall of the Absurd, and boy did you guys throw some good ones my way. Hit the jump for the best ones (and a bonus one from yours truly).

In the interest of fairness, I figured I’d share a new one as well. The one I shared in my initial post, while humiliating, was far too positive in comparison with the dreck you poor bastards sent over.

As I explained in my last post, I was thrust into a varsity position when I was a sophomore as a backup goalie to the best high school goalie in New Jersey simply because nobody else was stupid enough to play goalie in the district because they had NO CHANCE at ever displacing him.

I was forced into playing goalie for my freshman team. I wasn’t bad, fairy athletic, but I was too short and too tentative to be truly great. By sophomore year I was the only other goalie (other than the freshman goalie) in the program so I was a de facto member of the varsity.

I sucked. The upperclassmen definitely hated me. The coach thought my name was Bill for the first two weeks of the season (it definitely isn’t Bill).

Despite my shittyness, our team was amazing. We rolled through schools, having won a state championship the year before. The only time I ever played was when we were killing teams in mop up time.

We had a perfect season going 10 games into the year. No goals allowed, a perfect record. We were crushing another team and the coach put me and the other scrubs in for the last five minutes of a game.

The action was being played firmly in our opponent offensive end, which was fine by me. An appearance where I didn’t have to face any shots was a win in my book.

I watched as a loose ball came to one of their midfielders who was about 10 yards behind midfield….and to my utter surprise he wound up and BLASTED a shot to my direction, 60 yards away. It wasn’t a laser or anything, or particularly fast, but it was insanely high and I was playing fairly far off the goal line….

I backpedaled, hastily, realizing the ball was traveling far faster than I had figured….I felt myself falling backwards, my feet flailing like Fred Flintstone trying to start his car.  I hurled myself upwards (probably half a foot off the ground) to try to deflect the shot over the crossbar…I felt it scrape my fingertips, hit the underside of the crossbar, and plant itself into the goal.

First goal our team gave up all year. Perfect season gone. I fell ass backwards into the net and had to dislodge my tangled feet from the netting as everyone looked on at the feeb who let in a goal from 60 yards away and ruined everything for everyone.

I 100% cried on the bus on the way back to school. Fun times!

Now onto your submissions. I call this first one “The Old Larry Walker.”

From Twitter user @EwingSML:

I was the backup 1st baseman and reliever for our high school team in Southern Chester county. We had 3 good starters and i rarely got in because we were in the playoff hunt. One game day our first baseman didn’t show up to school and they had to play me.

Thier best player ripped a ground ball between me and the bag and i had to dive for it. I made the catch got up and beat him to the bag. Then I rolled the ball to the mound and sprinted to the dugout and sat down. Nobody else did because there were only 2 outs.

I would have paid good money to see you sheepishly have to trot back out to the field.

From Twitter user @phillyironlung:

Just remembered…stole the ball getting back on D I was a Center who could move pretty well, I’m like 13. Pretty good player too. But bigs don’t get breakaways by themselves. SO I AM AMPED. Go up for a layup, plant. Knee buckles and hyperextends, throw up the ball like I’ve never played ball in my life, hits the bottom of the backboard and just misses hitting me in the face. Was out for like 2 weeks with a bone bruise. Would have preferred to explosively shit myself in public.

Shitting your pants is never preferable to a physical injury. You can always sound cool explaining an injury to a girl, but never sound cool explaining that you shit your pants during a basketball game.

From Twitter user @Riches61:

Coggin — I don’t know if this is Hall of the Absurd worthy, but I’ve got one for ya. Back in 9th grade, before the season began, a couple of us who were getting ready for freshman football would get together in the summertime and just informally play. Run routes together, toss the pigskin around, scrimmage…kinda like a high-school version of OTAs. No coaches or anything, just us hanging out.

On one of the last days, a few girls came to watch us. So we decided to play Shirts vs. Skins, which as the pudgy fat kid, did not bode well for me whatsoever. Sure enough, I was on Team Skins, and I’m just hoping the mere sight doesn’t cause anyone to faint in horror. As our scrimmage goes on, I’m trying to stay less and less in the mix, hoping to avoid as much attention as possible. Everyone wants to put on a show for these girls (hormones, baby!), and I’m just hanging on for dear life out there.

Sure enough, we’re close to the “goal line,” and that’s when our QB decides to target me. We had cones designated as the end zones, just like pylons. I’m open, QB hits me, I make the catch…and just like that, I cross the goal line and IMMEDIATELY trip over the cone. Completely busted ass, face-planted pretty hard, ate dirt. These girls, and some of the dudes we were playing with, were HOWLING. Biggest reaction anybody had all day. 2/10 would not recommend.

Fat friends falling make up probably 99% of my most fondest memories.

From twitter user @senamamjs

11th grade football. I was back up running back and dback. I was small. Like Darren Sproles but skinny small. I was fast though and made a lot of big plays in jv games and practice. It was a huge rivalry game. Friday night under the lights and we were supposed to get crushed but were winning 6-0 at half time.

Coach out of nowhere tells me I’m returning the kick after half time. It’s a short kick and i get a running start. I see a lane and for a split second I think I’m gonna break it for a TD. But just as soon as I have that thought I get absolutely destroyed. Crushed. Some dude was in my blind spot to right of me and led with his head. Hit ball first and then obliterated me. It was one of those hits that the whole stadium screamed “Ohhhh shit!!”

I was ok but I fumbled the ball. Team went on to beat us 41-6. This happened to me over 20 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday.

You were basically Brandin Cooks in Super Bowl LII (except he was talented).

From Twitter user @kyleforst

HS tennis tourney, my dad was the director. Was getting my ass kicked. Hit weak lob, opponent smashed it &ball bounced high. Threw my racket in the air to try & stop ball, my racket sailed over the fence. Somebody was going to throw it back to me. My dad yelled stop. Whole tournament stopped to look at him. And made me walk through 5 courts, out the gate & around to pick up my racket. Had to walk past him twice. Went back to court and won 1 more gm. Quiet car ride home

I cannot wait to do that to my kid one day.

From Twitter user @crimjimmegan

Solid youth soccer story. I always played defense so I very very rarely scored any goals. One game we were tied 1-1 with around 2 minutes left in overtime, we had the ball in the offensive half and my coach told the d to push up and try and score. We have the ball in the box and I am just inside the 6. A shot bounces off the goalies chest with probably 8 seconds left and bounces right to me. My eyes widen at the open net, the thought of being the hero and most of all scoring maybe my 2nd goal ever. I wanted to pound the fucker through the back of the net, I take a huge wind-up and somehow from just inside the 6 blast it over the crossbar and about 50 yards behind the net. 5-4-3-2-1. Game over, draw. I remember the coaches son crying at the end of the game and yelling at me because I didn’t score, I said “we tied! who cares!”

Man, I’d hate to be personally related to that two-ton jerkoff!

There you have it. You guys are all a bunch of pathetic losers….no offense.

Buy Phillies gear through the banner below because baseball has to come back at some point, right? RIGHT?!