" Coach spun toward us with a nimble step he should have lost years ago. “Sprint ladders, ladies! I want Grandma Taps in increments of ten and then do that shit backward until you hit fifty!” Noah groaned and Watkins smile sharpened into something that confirmed my suspicions.
He was made of evil.
“And now you all can thank Trindale for making this Ladder Day! Right and left Twizzlers, front, back, and sideways! Hopsquats, Jack Dogs, Skip to My Lous, and…Twinkies.”
“Dear God,” Adam whispered. “Not the Twinkies.”
Dylan squirmed in his pads. “Sir, these names are— Well, half of us can’t remember how to do them. Why can’t we call them Ickey and Heisman shuffles, like, other coaches do?”
There was a sound in the back of Watkins’ throat that suggested he was making way in his gut for a piece of Dylan. “Because you shit stains haven’t earned the right to utter the names of those gods! "

― Ashlan Thomas , The Silent Cries of a Magpie (Cove #1)