Brian: Proud of you, coach.
JC Spink: You're the man.
Ruben, Amaro Jr.: We'll miss you every day.
Adam: Yeah, big blow. Point of procedure, what happens with the mile run?
Coach Mellor: The mile run is hereby postponed until the school can find a suitable, inferior replacement for me. [voice breaking] Damn it, Rick, you said you wouldn't let your eyes sweat. Walk it off, big guy!

Barry: Enough talk about God's fickle nature. My pathetic-nerd brother needs someone to show him how to pickle.
Coach Mellor: It's true. I forgot how pathetic and nerdy he is.
Adam: I don't really think that's the main takeaway here.
Barry: Look at his spindly arms and toothpick legs.
Coach Mellor: His concave chest and that doughy neck.
Coach Nick: And his flat feet and sickly posture.
Barry: Spin around, Adam. Show us how sad the back of your body is.
Adam: Yeah, my instinct is to say no.
Coach Mellor: You know what? Seeing this tragic excuse for the human form in its full non-glory is just the kick in the two-button polyester shorts I needed. I'm back, baby!
Barry: Whoo!
Coach Nick: And someone else is back, too. Hello, old friend. [whistle blows] Follow me to greatness, boys.

Coach Mellor: The Presidential Fitness Test. Our great president, Ronald Reagan, along with the Predator himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger, care enough about you to demand physical excellence.
Adam: Technically, Arnold wasn't the Predator. He was the prey.
Coach Mellor: Nobody cares, Goldfarb.
Adam: It's Goldberg. It's literally written on my shirt.
Coach Mellor: Good for you.

Coach Mellor: Let me tell you something, Mr.and Mrs. Goldfarb. There are three things I hate in life: my ex-wife, carrots, and lies.

Coach Mellor: Look, I know not everyone of you is in peak physical condition like coach. A lot of you have got baby fat. Some of you are gangly, spaghetti-armed monsters. Others just look like a sack of paste. But if this is how you feel, then I am willing to make even the worst of you a little more comfortable.

Coach Mellor: Okay, your calculus teacher called in sick. Wish I'd have thought of it. So we're gonna watch a math-based movie "Cannonball Run II."
Erica: How is that a math movie?
Coach Mellor: "II." It's got a number in it. Math.

Coach Mellor: Son, I've been here a long time and I've seen kids pull that fire alarm for a lot of different reasons. What's yours? Pop quiz in chemistry?
Adam: No.
Coach Mellor: Arousing daydream?
Adam: No!
Coach Mellor: Inner-fart that fooled you?
Adam: Worse.
Coach Mellor: Ooh. I'm intrigued.

Coach Mellor: What's with the flyer, Goldberg?
Barry: I made this life-changing bet with my dad, and I can't lose.
Coach Mellor: Blood feud with the old man, huh? I didn't talk to Coach Senior for six years until we finally arm-wrestled it out. He won. But I let him.

Adam: "See you ladle"? I-I didn't write that.
Murray: That'd be me. I did some noodling with the script, partner.
Adam: Dad. You can't rewrite my script.
Murray: But you didn't have any snappy one-liners like Arnold says. That's the best part of an action movie.
Coach Mellor: Now you got a bunch of 'em. Sear you later. Spat-u-later. Cheese ya grater.
Adam: They are all the same!

Coach Mellor: 31 to nothing in the first half?! What a disgrace!
Ruben Amaro, Jr.: Coach, we're doing our best.
Coach Mellor: Save the excuses for Ruben Amaro Sr., Ruben Amaro Jr.!