Coach Mellor: Whoa, whoa! There's no climbing in school. Unless it's on a rope hung dangerously from the rafters of the gymnasium.

Erica: Hey, Coach. Got a minute?
Coach Mellor: Kind of busy, female Goldberg. I'm inventing a new hybrid sport. Either, uh, baseball fencing or water-polo squash.
Erica: You can't play squash under water. People need to breathe.
Coach Mellor: Need to breathe. (sighs) That makes sense. "Need to breathe".

Adam: Coach Mellor! Please tell me you forced Chad to be partners with Dave Kim.
Coach Mellor: Quite the opposite, Goldfarb. Chad came to me. Made me swear to keep it a secret, too. Something about feelings and friendship, I don't know. I'm not your remembering things secretary, Chad Kremp!
Adam: That snake is cheating on me with my mortal enemy, who is actually a great guy and another friend.
Coach Mellor: I sympathize. Tennis is a lot like marriage. It's long, and it's boring, and eventually, she leaves you for a handsome Latin man who was just supposed to re-tile your bathroom.

Adam: Well, there's only one thing left to do. I become the best tennis player this school has ever known, and I need your help to do it.
Coach Mellor: Damn it, Goldfarb. As a coach, I took a blood oath never to let a student-athlete fail if he's got drive and desire, which is exactly why I'm gonna get into my Ford Festiva and pretend you never asked.

Coach Mellor: Out! Point, Kremp-Kim!
Barry: Out?! You got to be frickin' kidding me. It was in by a mile!
Coach Mellor: Gah! Ha! Nice one, McEnroe. Just for that awesome burst of passion, I'm giving you the point.
Chad Kremp: What? That's not a reason to change your mind.
Coach Mellor: Oh, it is. That's the kind of competitive spirit we need on this team.

Coach Mellor: I warned her for three years: fail gym, pay the price.
Beverly: Okay, she's still a wonderful girl, and I will stop at nothing until you give me that diploma.
Coach Mellor: Ugh. Here you go.
Beverly: That's it?
Coach Mellor: Brace yourself. Ready to have your mind blown? I have no real power. My greatest weapon is threatening the kids with failing gym. So, every year, I terrify the attractive, popular kids to let them know that their actions have consequences, even though they really, really don't.
Beverly: Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want me to call Erica and bring her in here?
Coach Mellor: Eh, the moment's gone. You raised an amazing woman, Beverly Goldberg. It's been a pleasure doing battle with you.

Coach Mellor: That's a moving cautionary tale, Goldfarb. You can sit out dodgeball for the whole week.

Coach Mellor: All right. Welcome to third-period gym, freshmen through seniors. Now, to any of you younger, spindly-armed students worried about the insane disparity of height and weight in this class, I say, what are ya gonna do?
Barry: Suggestion, Coach. Perhaps the younger, dorkier students should wear shin guards and helmets, because I will bring the thunder.
Adam: Oh, balls. You're in this class?
Coach Mellor: Looks like we got ourselves a classic brother versus brother showdown.
Adam: No, we don't.
Barry: You know it.
Coach Mellor: This is why I snap on these blue shorts every day.

Coach Mellor: Okay, party people! The rubber balls are wet and molded over, so today, we will be playing dodgeball with lady softballs. They're large, they're hard, and they will leave a mark.

Pops: Oh, no, the giant man is eating all the turkey. It never even got to me.
Coach Mellor: This is why I don't invite you anywhere!
Coach Nick: You know I need a constant stream of protein!