Does not related to real folk, honest.
There once was a failed csgo player who became a mascot coach called T-Dog, whom everyone knows carries about an English dictionary to carry out his quest to become the best salesman for the Tesco cider department FSE there ever was. During the daytime T-Dog would ponder life and consumed numerous amounts of salt each day.
During the night time it was when T-Dog shined, for he turned off his bedroom light, lit a candle and switched on the local classical radio station. T-Dog was in his prime, he had FSE open, his pet human Elliot purring like a kitten with a brown nose. T-Dog would power through paragraph after paragraph until he hit page 100, then would wipe the tears of joy away. Once he hit page 100, he would take a swig of salt water and continue into the dark world of steam, for those who angered T-Dog were about to be met with the man, the myth, the legend that was T-Dog. Onslaught after onslaught, tear after tear did T-Dog get through his victims in just a slower fashion than Niphpoo retired and joined another regiment.
There was however, one gent that could disable T-Dog, with the powers of Guinness, Mr I Drink Guinness would call him into action to aid the great team of blblblblblblblblblbblblblblblblblblbllblblbllblblblbllblblblblblblbllblblbbblbllblblblblblblblblbl ^100. T-Dog put on his pom poms and began the chanting "I am a mascot!, not a coach!" and so on.
Once T-Dog was finished being a war dog, he was back on the addiction of both FSE and Salt. Legend has it, he lives in the lorraine salt mine and sells wooden homemade carved giraffes for a living.
Morale of the story, csgo coaches are not to be messed with, unless you have the right equipment.