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Yup saw that. Had a bunch of ppl on Facebook trolling Cocoa high from Sarasota and Clearwater area cause they thought he was talking about Cocoa high football team since he tagged them lmao. 

Man, y'all seen this mess with them Philly boys down in Polk County? Grady Judd up there holdin' that press conference like he hostin' the damn Oscars, talkin' 'bout these eight lil' knuckleheads—wait, news said eight, but close enough—who rolled into town for that youth tournament, Prolifix Nationals or whatever they call it, and instead of suiting up against them Cocoa Tigers, they decide to turn Dick's Sporting Goods into their personal five-finger discount outlet. Stealin' hoodies, gloves, mouthguards... over two grand worth. Noimsayin?Back in my day, growin' up over there in the projects in Tallahassee—FAMU right down the road, class of '72, strikin' Rattlers forever—we didn't have no out-of-state tournaments, but we had pickup games on them dirt fields that'd make you bleed just lookin' at 'em. You messed up, coach made you run laps till you threw up, or worse, your mama found out and whooped you with whatever was handy. These boys take an Uber—Uber! I still ain't figured that app out without callin' my granddaughter—to go boostin' before the championship? That's like me back in '78, drivin' all the way to Jacksonville to bet on the Gators, only to blow the rent money on a stripper named Peaches who said she was "investin' in her future." Peaches ended up with my cash, I ended up sleepin' in my Buick. Lesson learned the hard way. And that coach? Beggin' the deputies, "Y'all ain't got nothin' better to do?" Oh honey, you in Polk County now. Grady Judd don't play that. He looked at that man like he was one of them Karens I deal with at the Publix counter every damn day. Lady came in last week, drunk as Cooter Brown at 10 a.m., tryin' to return a half-eaten rotisserie chicken 'cause it "tasted funny." Told her, "Ma'am, everything tastes funny when you dippin' it in vodka." She cussed me out, but corporate still made me give her the money back. Grady? He'd a locked her up too.Anyway, them Philly boys let the whole team down, missed the game, Cocoa Tigers put 26-6 on what's left of 'em. That's Florida football right there—do right or get sent home cryin'. I love this state game, high school especially. Friday nights under them lights? Nothin' better. But you come here actin' a fool? Grady gon' finish what you started.I would've put money on Cocoa anyway. Easy bet. Them boys disciplined. Unlike certain people I know... or dated. Hell, unlike me half the time.Stay straight out there, fellas. Football's 'bout heart, not sticky fingers

Wow!  Didn’t expect a response like that.  Looks like I struck a nerve.  Why did you take it in such a negative manner? 

After that Vero Beach-Lake Mary 7A title game finish that felt like somebody slipped a laxative in the football gods' coffee. I watched the replay about six times last night—partly for analysis, partly because I couldn't sleep after remembering my own clock-management disasters back when I was slinging Frostys at the Wendy's drive-thru on State Route 4 in Ohio. Kid pulls up at 1:58 a.m., orders four Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers and a large Coke, hands me a twenty, and I give him change for a fifty because I'm too busy staring at the cashier with the low-cut shirt. Cost me the drawer being short and a stern talking-to from the manager who looked like he ate nails for breakfast. Lesson learned: when the clock's ticking down, don't do something stupid that'll cost you the win... or twenty-three bucks.                             Anyway, this poor fan's rant hits like a hangover after a Buckeyes loss to Michigan (don't get me started—2006 still keeps me up some nights). Calls it the worst coaching meltdown he's seen at any level, says Jankowski's brain got short-circuited by the rain worse than when I tried to fix my ex-wife's toaster while standing in a puddle. Strong words. And honestly... he's got a point that don't need much polishing.The poster lays out the smart play: feed Hillsman—who'd already trucked for 238 yards like he was mad at the turf—three straight times. Tell him, "Son, hold that ball like it's the last beer at a tailgate and stay in bounds." If you need a first down, fake to him and let Monds keep it. Worst case, you punt, they get it inside their 30, still down eight, and even if they block it and house it (or fumble-six the other way), you're still ahead by two or six. They'd need the TD plus the deuce just to tie and go to overtime. And with Vero's offense humming for damn near 500 yards? I'd take my chances in free football over giving Lake Mary a "TD + extra point and we win" scenario.Instead, the safety flips the math, good return sets 'em up at the 42, and boom—Hail Mary, lateral, guy runs it in like he's got rockets in his cleats. Game over. Heartbreak city.Now look, I've seen coaches pull the intentional safety and it works—usually when you're nursing a skinny lead and just want to bleed the clock dead. But when you're up eight? That's like me back in my chasing-skirts days deciding to buy a woman flowers after she already said yes. Unnecessary risk, pal.Credit where due: Jankowski's a hell of a coach, built Vero into a machine, and the rest of the game plan was solid. Explosive plays happen, defense gets gassed, injuries pile up—that's football, not malpractice. But that last sequence? Yeah, that's gonna be on the film-room blooper reel for a long time. Hope he owns it like a man, because trying to spin that one would be harder than explaining to my old Wendy's manager why the drawer was short again the next weekend.Lake Mary earned it with that miracle—first title, sweet revenge for last year. Vero folks, chin up. Y'all were 14-0 getting there and you'll reload. Just maybe next time... run the damn ball three times and punt.Alright, I'm gonna go pour a scotch and pretend 2006 never happened. Y'all behave

LongtimeVero, do you have any thoughts/ideas about the performance of the coaching staff of Vero Beach in that game?