One time I was playing doubles tennis with Michael Summers. About 3/4 of the way through the match he just tossed the racket and said, "Eff this. I'm out. You can play solo if you want to." I was not about to have some snowflake quitter walk out on this game, so I went right up to him, got in his grill and started barking at him like my ROTC drill instructor told us he used to do to new recruits. Oh man did that set him off. He then started complaining about how I was hitting all the balls on our side of the court, which is true but only because that's where our opponents were playing them (who during this whole thing have whipped out their cell-phones to tape this altercation as we looked like quite the pair in our matching white Russel tennis outfits...EM---BARASSINGGGGG). Anyway, he just stalks off and I try my best to finish off the game but end up going 0-4 in the final set anyway.
Next thing I know I see Michael on the tennis courts again this time with some hot bitches just laughing it up and having a good time. The nerve of these know-nothing, do-nothing, complain-everything millennials is sickening.