Sports-related Daddies

Mainly coaches, referees, etc. who are sweaty, wet, or most importantly, hot!

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Coach Patterson

Chapter One: Bulge on the Green

Featuring Football Coach, Gary Patterson

The sun hammered down on Rockwood Park Golf Course in Fort Worth, Texas, during the 28th Annual TCU Coaches Golf Classic Tournament on April 28, 2025. Gary Patterson, the legendary former TCU head coach—boasting 181 wins, six conference championships, and a legacy of shaping 263 all-conference selections, 21 first-team All-Americans, and 55 NFL Draft picks—strode across the fairway with the confidence of a man who'd just led his team to first place and snagged the Longest Drive award.

At 65, his 5'9" stocky frame carried a classic dad-bod: broad shoulders, sturdy thick legs, a noticeable belly, and that prominently rounded butt that jiggled subtly with each step. His fair skin flushed under the heat, his piercing blue eyes squinting against the glare, and his neatly parted light brown hair, streaked with gray, peeked out from under his visor. He wore a purple short-sleeved polo shirt soaked through with sweat, clinging to his hairy chest and belly, where his prominent pinkish nipples poked like insistent buttons. Light khaki shorts hugged his sweaty thighs and ass, the fabric darkened by massive wet spots that outlined his commando bulge—the thick, veiny 7-inch cut cock with its bulbous pink head pressing against the material—and hinted at the crack between his plump cheeks. His hefty, low-hanging balls swayed freely in their loose, hairy sac, dense coarse blond-gray pubes trailing up to his belly. A chunky watch gleamed on his left wrist, his wedding ring a constant reminder of his life with Kelsey and their three sons, but today, the thrill of victory stirred something primal.

Amid the post-tournament celebrations near the clubhouse, a young male admirer named Alex Thompson approached. Alex, a tall, athletic 35-year-old with a lean runner's build, short tousled brown hair, and piercing blue eyes, sported a fitted TCU tee that hugged his toned chest and khaki pants that did little to hide his growing excitement.

"Coach, that drive was somethin' else—pure power, just like back in your TCU days," Alex said, his voice laced with admiration, though his gaze dipped unmistakably to the sweat-soaked bulge in Patterson's shorts.

Patterson flashed his warm yet intense smile, revealing good teeth, his raspy voice barking out a laugh from years of sideline yelling.

"Well, hell, son, you gotta swing like you mean it—ain't no half-measures in golf or football."

The conversation flowed easily about TCU's glory days, Patterson's passionate babbling picking up steam as he reminisced about those scorching sidelines where he'd sweat through his khakis, giving fans behind the bench a drenched spectacle of his jiggling posterior. But the air thickened with unspoken heat, the day's victory fueling Patterson's fiery side. Feeling the pull, he nodded toward a secluded wooded area behind the course.

"C'mon, let's step away for a private chat—away from all this ruckus."

In the dappled shade of the trees, away from prying eyes, the tension snapped. Alex dropped to his knees on the soft grass, his hands sliding up Patterson's sturdy, sweat-slicked thighs. Patterson's breath hitched, his expressive face flushing deeper as he unzipped his fly with weathered fingers, digging into the crotch of his shorts to free his thickening cock. It flopped out, heavy and veiny, the bulbous head already glistening with pre-cum under the dense bush of blond-gray pubes.

"Damn, boy, you got me all riled up like it's fourth and goal," Patterson rasped, wrapping his strong hand around the shaft and stroking it slowly, making it swell to its full 7 inches, solid girth pulsing with each pump. He swung it back and forth playfully, showing off its heft, his low-hanging balls slapping against his thigh.

Alex's eyes widened, his own arousal evident as he unbuckled his belt, shoving down his pants and briefs to reveal his hardening cock. He leaned forward, tongue flicking out to trace the salty outline of Patterson's bulbous head, savoring the musky tang of sweat and man. Then, with fervent enthusiasm, he engulfed it fully, lips stretching around the thick girth as he sucked greedily, his tongue swirling along the veiny underside. Patterson groaned deeply, his raspy voice rumbling like a sideline bark, hands gripping Alex's hair tightly.

"That's it, son...suck it like you mean it. Deeper, now!"

Alex obliged, deep-throating until Patterson's hefty balls slapped wetly against his chin, the coach's hairy sac brushing his lips with each thrust.

But Patterson pulled back, his body trembling, nipples aching visibly through his soaked polo.

"Don’t you go makin' me shoot my load just yet—I wanna fuck that tight ass of yours." His voice was gruff, competitive edge shining through. "Now, take it all."

Alex pressed forward, swallowing every inch until his nose buried in the coarse gray pubes, inhaling the deep, sweaty musk as he tried to take more, gagging slightly but persisting.

Patterson's passion flared.

"Turn around and bend over, boy—I'll get you really hot."

But Alex had other ideas first.

"No, Coach—you turn. Let me taste that sweaty beast."

Patterson chuckled raspily, turning his broad back to Alex and leaning against a nearby tree, his khaki shorts tugged down just enough to expose his plump, hairy ass. The cheeks glistened with sweat, the dark furrow between them inviting and musky from the day's heat. Alex pushed Patterson's thick legs apart, lifting them slightly for better access, and dove in. His tongue delved into the puckered hole, rimming it with wet, swirling motions—probing deep into the hot, salty depths, tasting the earthy tang of sweat-soaked fur. One hand stroked Patterson's rock-hard shaft, thumbing the veiny length, while the other kneaded his hefty balls. Patterson's body quaked, his "tits" heaving with ragged breaths, nipples hard as pebbles begging for attention. He thrust back against Alex's face, grunting.

"Yes, boy—eat my asshole. Stick that tongue deeper! Oh, hell yeah, reach deep inside me. That's it—deeper, good!"

Patterson hunched his ass rhythmically, grinding against Alex's hungry mouth, his hand slowly jacking his huge pecker as the tongue worked in and out, slurping and probing the slick, hairy crack. The woods filled with wet smacks and Patterson's raspy moans, his competitive fire turning to raw lust. Finally, he pulled away, breathless.

"Better stop, or I'll shoot right here. Now turn around and let me give it to you."

He spit into his palm, smearing the slickness over his bulbous head.

"Hell, you got me so hot I ain't gonna last long."

Alex bent over, bracing against the tree, his ass presented eagerly. Patterson stepped forward, guiding his thick cock to the waiting hole. He pressed the head harder and harder, the veiny shaft inching in with insistent pressure.

"Easy! Easy!" Alex cried out, the woods echoing his loud pleas as Patterson penetrated little by little, Alex grabbing his own dick and masturbating furiously to ease the burn.

"Take it all!" Gary barked, ramming savagely deeper, his stocky body slamming forward until he was buried to the hilt in the tight heat. The sudden plunge made Alex straighten up, gasping, but Patterson wrapped his strong arms around, grabbing Alex's chest and twisting his nipples like he was wringing out a victory—hard, demanding, fueling the fire. All the while, the coach pulled his cock almost out, only to plunge back in with powerful thrusts, his hairy belly slapping against Alex's back, balls swinging heavily. The rhythm built like a championship drive, immersive and relentless, Patterson's raspy grunts mixing with the wet sounds of flesh on flesh.

Climax hit like a game-winning touchdown.

"I'm cummin'!" Alex announced, his body shuddering as ropes of cum shot onto the ground.

"Me too!" Patterson roared, jerking his cock out and stroking it a couple more times before a strong stream of white liquid squirted onto Alex's back and ass cheeks, warm and thick, dripping down the crack. Even as Patterson unloaded, Alex finished his own release, both men panting in the afterglow.

This narrative is entirely fictional and it does not reflect any known events or factual scenarios involving Gary Patterson or any persons.

Synopsis: In this chapter, former TCU coach Gary Patterson celebrates a golf tournament win with a passionate, sweat-fueled encounter in the woods with admirer Alex, featuring intense oral pleasures and climactic anal action amid raspy, competitive dialog.

[facialhairy]

The Fugitive starring David Janssen

[coachlust]

Let’s get back to posting….

CFB WEEK 1

- Mario Cristobal is top five for me right now. Incredible looks, body, visible undershirt and always has that wet look about him.

- Surprise Gatorade shower to Shane Beamer is nice, but Brent Pry….. So ruggedly handsome.

- DC Chris Ash of Notre Dame got a little wet in Miami. I remember him and those furry arms at Rutgers a while ago, but he’s aged really nicely.

- Jeff Choate of Nevada is also so insanely good looking. Would love to take him out and spend time with him.

- Mark Stoops matched with a handsome, furry red. Speaking of, is that some chest hair trying to pop out near Mark’s nipple?

- Greg Schiano and Kyle Whittingham keep aging spectacularly. I mean seriously, how much more perfect can a man get?

- Sorry about the loss Dabo. If only you had someone to help your sweaty self forget about it…

- You too Bill. Gosh, those tits are incredible.

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

It’s Dykes vs. Belichick on Monday night — which sideline will you be watching?

Bulges galore. Now do I want to see cock or man tits.

Decisions. Decisions. 🍆💦😁

[idvoteforthatdaddy]

Dr. Strain

Chapter One: Heat in the Grove

The Pineville Fall Family Festival at Kees Park thrummed with life—kids hollerin’, country music twangin’ through the muggy Louisiana air, and the smell of fried dough and smoky barbecue hangin’ thick. Eric Landry, 28, stood 6’0” with a stocky, athletic build, broad shoulders, and wavy brown hair fallin’ just past his ears. His hazel eyes roamed the crowd, restless, until they landed on a man in his sixties by a food stall. The man wore a white Panama hat with a black band, a green short-sleeved button-up shirt with a patch on the chest, blue jeans, and a brown belt with a big ol’ buckle. His shiny bald scalp gleamed under the hat’s brim, and his fair skin, tanned from years workin’ cattle, bore wrinkles and age spots. A round face with full cheeks, a strong jaw, and bright blue eyes gave him a friendly, approachable look, though his broad neck and thick arms spoke of a life spent wranglin’ livestock. A gold ring with a stone sat heavy on his left hand, a thinner band on his right, and a dark-faced watch hugged his left wrist. A woman—likely his wife, Susan—stood nearby, but Eric’s gaze didn’t stray from the man’s sturdy, veined hands and that thick, weathered neck that screamed rugged charm.

Later, as the sun dipped low, paintin’ the sky orange, Eric spotted the man alone on a park bench, his wife nowhere in sight. Heart poundin’, Eric sauntered over, his leather boots kickin’ up dust. He plopped down close, their thighs brushin’ through denim. The man tipped his hat back, revealin’ those twinklin’ blue eyes.

“Well, howdy there, son. Name’s Michael—Mike Strain,” he said, his voice deep and warm, thick with a Louisiana drawl that rolled like molasses. “What’s yours?”

Eric’s pulse raced. Mike Strain, Louisiana’s Commissioner of Agriculture and Forestry, a veterinarian and Covington boy known for his steady hand and open mind. “Eric Landry,” he replied, keepin’ his voice smooth despite the heat stirrin’ in his gut. “Pleasure, Commissioner.”

They got to talkin’—Mike spinnin’ yarns about doctorin’ livestock and runnin’ his family’s cattle farm, Eric tossin’ in playful jabs. But Eric’s eyes kept wanderin’. Mike’s green shirt, damp from the humid night, clung to his soft, heavy pecs, a faint shadow of gray chest hair peekin’ through. Sweat beaded on Mike’s broad neck, tricklin’ into his collar. Eric leaned closer, catchin’ the scent of Mike’s woodsy cologne mixed with the day’s heat.

“You’re a fine-lookin’ man, Mike,” Eric murmured, voice low and husky. “That smile, that big ol’ presence… I’m bettin’ you’d feel mighty fine in the sheets.”

Mike’s cheeks flushed redder’n a ripe peach, but his eyes sparkled with somethin’ like mischief. “Boy, I’m a married man,” he chuckled, glancin’ at the gold ring on his left hand. “Old enough to be your daddy, too. Been with my Susan since vet school.” His voice hitched, though, a crack in that good-ol’-boy armor.

Eric’s hand grazed Mike’s thigh, the denim warm under his fingers. “Don’t matter to me,” he said, hazel eyes locked on Mike’s full lips. “I want you, Mike. Right now.”

Mike’s breath caught, and for a moment, Eric thought he’d bolt. But then Mike nodded toward a grove of pines behind the park, where the festival’s racket faded to a soft hum. “C’mon, son,” he muttered, voice low. “Let’s take a walk.”

In the dappled shade, hidden by thick trunks, Eric’s heart hammered as he dropped to his knees on the soft grass. His fingers worked quick, undoin’ Mike’s big belt buckle with a clink. He tugged down the blue jeans, revealin’ Mike’s 6-inch cut cock, moderate girth with a smooth, pink head already slick with precum. Eric’s mouth watered somethin’ fierce. He leaned in, lips brushin’ the tip, tastin’ that salty tang before takin’ the head into his mouth, suckin’ slow and deliberate. Mike gasped, his chubby, weathered fingers tanglin’ in Eric’s wavy hair, grippin’ tight.

“Lord have mercy, Eric,” Mike groaned, his drawl thicker now, voice rough as gravel. “Ain’t nobody done me like this since… hell, ever.”

Eric’s tongue swirled ‘round the head, teasin’ the slit, then slid down the shaft, takin’ Mike deep ‘til his nose pressed into the coarse gray hair at the base. Mike’s belly jiggled as he thrust gentle-like, his moans growin’ louder. Eric’s hands gripped Mike’s thick thighs, feelin’ the heat through the denim bunched at his knees. He bobbed faster, lips tight, tongue flickin’ along the underside, savorin’ every shudder. He pulled back just enough to drag his tongue slow along the vein, then sucked hard on the head, poppin’ it in and out of his mouth with wet, sloppy sounds.

“Sweet Jesus, boy,” Mike panted, his bald scalp shinin’ as he glanced ‘round for passersby. “You’re gonna kill this old man with that mouth.”

Eric grinned, spit glistenin’ on his lips. “Your wife ever suck you this good, Commissioner?” he teased, strokin’ Mike’s cock with one hand, the other cuppin’ his heavy balls, rollin’ ‘em gentle.

Mike shook his head, breathless. “Susan’s a good woman, but… hell, son, nothin’ like this. Keep goin’.”

Eric dove back in, relaxin’ his throat to take Mike deeper, his lips stretched tight ‘round the shaft. He hummed low, the vibration makin’ Mike curse under his breath. Mike’s grip tightened, hips buckin’ as he groaned, “Eric, I’m fixin’ to—Goddamn, I’m gonna blow!”

Mike’s hips jerked, and Eric felt the pulse, the sudden heat. He didn’t pull back, swallowin’ as Mike’s cock throbbed, spurtin’ thick, hot cum into his mouth. The load was heavy, like Mike hadn’t cut loose in months, and Eric took it all, tongue circlin’ the head to milk every drop. Mike’s legs quivered, his breath comin’ in short, ragged grunts as Eric kept suckin’ ‘til the older man’s cock softened, slippin’ from his lips with a final, wet pop. A stray drop of cum glistened on Eric’s chin, and Mike’s flushed face looked like he’d seen the pearly gates.

“Boy, you done ruined me,” Mike said, half-laughin’, his voice shaky as he tucked himself back in. But before he could catch his breath, a rustle nearby made ‘em freeze, holdin’ their breath ‘til the footsteps faded.

Eric leaned close, whisperin’ hot against Mike’s ear. “I ain’t done with you, Commissioner. I wanna fuck that sweet ass of yours.”

Mike’s eyes widened, but a grin tugged at his lips. “You’re a bold one, son,” he murmured, then winked, pullin’ Eric into a kiss that was all heat and hunger, tongues tanglin’ like they’d been at it for years. Eric tasted the salt of Mike’s cum on his own lips, and Mike moaned into the kiss, his hands grippin’ Eric’s shoulders.

Mike sank to his knees, his green shirt rumpled, face still flushed. Eric unzipped his fitted jeans, freein’ his 7-inch cut cock, smooth with a slight upward curve, the head shiny with precum. Mike’s eyes lit up, nervous but eager. “I ain’t never…” he started, voice low, “but I reckon I’ll give it a try.”

He leaned in, tongue dartin’ out to lick the shaft, tastin’ the precum beadin’ at the tip. His lips closed ‘round the head, suckin’ tentative at first, then bolder, his tongue swirlin’ in messy, eager circles. Eric groaned, hands restin’ on Mike’s broad shoulders, the sight of the Commissioner—Panama hat askew, bald head bobbin’—pushin’ him to the edge. Mike’s chubby fingers worked his own cock, already hard again, as he sucked, focusin’ on the tip, slobberin’ a bit as he found his rhythm.

“Fuck, Mike, that mouth’s a damn treasure,” Eric moaned, hips twitchin’ as Mike’s tongue flicked the sensitive underside. Mike’s inexperience only made it hotter, his enthusiasm drivin’ Eric wild.

Eric pulled Mike to his feet, crushin’ their lips together in a fierce kiss, tongues wrestlin’ like they were teenagers sneakin’ off behind the barn. Breakin’ the kiss, Eric leaned in, breath hot against Mike’s ear. “I’m gonna fuck you now, Commissioner. Gonna fuck you like you fuck your Susan.”

Mike’s eyes glazed with lust, like he was under a spell. “Alright, son,” he whispered, voice thick. “But you go easy on this old vet, hear?”

Eric guided Mike to a nearby pine, tellin’ him to lean over and grab the trunk. Mike dropped his jeans to his ankles, revealin’ a round, plump ass, pale but tanned at the edges from years in the sun. Eric knelt, spreadin’ Mike’s cheeks, and dragged his tongue slow across the tight, puckered hole, tastin’ the musky heat. Mike gasped, his whole body shuddin’ as Eric licked deeper, wettin’ the rim with spit, teasin’ the sensitive skin ‘til Mike was pushin’ back, desperate.

“Lord, boy, that’s… that’s somethin’ else,” Mike panted, voice shakin’ as Eric’s tongue swirled, loosenin’ him up.

Eric stood, spittin’ into his hand to slick his cock, the head glistenin’ as he pressed it against Mike’s hole. “Easy now, Commissioner,” Eric murmured, pushin’ slow. Mike’s rim was tight, clenchin’ at first, but Eric’s spit and the heat from the blowjob had him relaxed enough to take the head with a low groan. “Go easy, son,” Mike whispered, his own cock throbbin’ as he pushed back, wantin’ more.

Eric eased in, inch by inch, Mike’s ass hot and tight ‘round his shaft. “Goddamn, you’re tight as a virgin heifer,” Eric growled, startin’ a slow, steady rhythm. Mike’s hands gripped the tree, his breath comin’ in sharp gasps as Eric fucked him deeper, the wet sound of skin on skin fillin’ the grove. Mike’s ass took him easy now, the rim stretchin’ to hug Eric’s cock as he thrust harder, pinnin’ Mike to the tree.

“Harder, boy,” Mike grunted, surprisin’ Eric with the hunger in his voice. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Eric obliged, grabbin’ Mike’s plump cheeks and spreadin’ ‘em wide, rammin’ his cock deep and fast. Mike’s belly jiggled with each thrust, his moans muffled as he bit his lip to keep quiet. Eric reached ‘round, grippin’ Mike’s soft, heavy belly, feelin’ the heat of his skin as he pounded harder. Mike’s ass clenched, hot and greedy, suckin’ Eric’s cock like it was made for it. Eric’s balls slapped against Mike’s thighs, the rhythm frantic now, sweat drippin’ down both their backs.

“Fuck, Mike, your ass is fuckin’ perfect,” Eric growled, his cock swellin’ as he felt the edge comin’. He reached up, pinchin’ Mike’s hard nipples through his shirt, makin’ the older man whimper. Eric’s hips snapped, drivin’ deep as he came, his cock pulsin’ as he shot thick, creamy loads into Mike’s ass, fillin’ him ‘til cum dripped down Mike’s thighs. Mike’s own cock jerked, spillin’ a second load onto the grass in shudderin’ spurts, his rim clenchin’ tight ‘round Eric’s shaft as he rode out the orgasm.

Eric pulled out slow, Mike’s ass makin’ a soft, wet sound as cum leaked from his stretched hole. Mike turned, pullin’ up his jeans with a shaky grin, his face glowin’ like a man reborn. “Well, hell, son,” he panted, wipin’ sweat from his bald scalp. “You done fucked this old dog better’n a springtime rut.”

Eric laughed, pullin’ Mike into a sloppy, desperate kiss, their tongues tanglin’ as they savored the shared heat. Mike tasted himself on Eric’s lips, his hands grippin’ Eric’s ass through his jeans. After a long moment, Mike pulled back, adjustin’ his Panama hat with a wink. He scribbled his number on a book of matches, pressin’ it into Eric’s hand.

“Reckon we’ll be seein’ each other again, son,” Mike said, pattin’ Eric’s back. “Don’t go tellin’ the whole parish, now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Commissioner,” Eric replied, returnin’ the wink.

Mike slipped back into the festival crowd, his green shirt blendin’ into the throng. Eric lingered, the taste of Mike’s cock and the feel of his ass still burnin’ in his mind. He tucked the matches into his pocket, already plannin’ their next rendezvous.

[officialbugsposts]

Happy Daddies Day, y'all.

[maturetemptations]

Mark Mitchell, MP from New Zealand.

Of course he's woke AF, seems like all the hot ones are. But I'd forgive him for one night of hot steamy sex.

Seeing a hot silverfox roll in the mud.... HOT!

[maturetemptations]

Well what do you know... turns out there IS a video of that sexy NZ MP all muddy and sweaty... @coachlust

[maturetemptations]

Paul Grimley all wet and touchy feely @coachlust

[coachlust]

You know I love this

[maturetemptations]

Well what do you know... turns out there IS a video of that sexy NZ MP all muddy and sweaty... @coachlust

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Thoughts on Laborde/Earles lawyer firm in Louisiana? They both look INCREDIBLE. Who do you prefer?

I could hire them. Digger Earles is my fav.

[coachlust]

Steve Spurrier and Mark Richt 10 years ago in a nice fourth quarter rain. This era was fantastic..

[coachlust]

May start posting more of these wet coaches videos in the backlog I have. Here’s the Mike Elko game this season, but definitely let me know if you all want more of these.

[bu-g-scuts]

Can't believe I missed this last weekend, probably cause I'm watching and recording multiple college football games. lol

I love watching Mack Brown and Pat Narduzzi interact, they have a very playful affectionate friendship, it's really cute. Would love to see these boys bang it out though! It would definitely need to end with Mack with his legs spread wide open, in a sling, and Pat nailing his tight hole! Pat seems like a nice guy, but I get the feeling he gets pretty aggressive when he's fucking! 😈 I can only imagine the moans that would be coming out of Mack's mouth while his hole is getting destroyed... Damn! I'm all leaky now... 🤣🤣

[mydaddywiki]

Chip LaMarca

Physique: Average Build Height: 5′ 6″

Chip LaMarca (born March 16, 1968) is an American politician who is a Republican member of the Florida Legislature representing the state's 100th House District, which includes part of Broward County. LaMarca spent 8 years on the county commission and was the sole Republican elected on the board.

Handsome, nice hair and nice dick sucking lips. I love the sock and shoe choices. All combined to make a very attractive man. This is my new ‘gun down guy.’

A native of Winchester, Massachusetts, LaMarca moved to Florida in 1971. He attend Boston University, Broward College and Florida Atlantic University. Prior to his election to the Florida House of Representatives, LaMarca served on the Lighthouse Point City Commission and the Broward County Commission. LaMarca owns and operates LaMarca Construction Corporation, a firm that specializes in power generation.

LaMarca is married to wife Eileen with District 100’s doggie mascot, Rocco. Wait a minute, someone who wears that much pastel and setting my gaydar off is married… to a women. OK? Well… he likes to go boating, fishing, music (drums), walking, going to beaches and the occasional cock. Ok, that last part was from my fruitful imagination.

[coachlust]

Shots from his wet day at the Florida Panthers parade this summer. 🤤

[bu-g-scuts]

Wet bear, yes please.

[mydaddywiki]

Mike Elko

Physique: Husky Build Height: 6'

Michael Elko (born July 28, 1977) is an American college football coach who is the head football coach at Texas A&M University. He was previously the defensive coordinator at Texas A&M from 2018 until his hiring by Duke on December 10, 2021, and subsequent departure from Duke and hiring by Texas A&M on November 26, 2023.

Ruggedly handsome and possibly ferociously hairy. This is the kind of man I could spend hours with. Look at him, he is crying out for a good ass-pounding. Well, he would probably disagree but you have to admit, it's a crying shame that his cock is not being milk until he was a dried up husk.

A native of South Brunswick, New Jersey, Elko graduated from Penn with a bachelor’s degree in history in 1999. As a safety, he helped the Quakers to the 1998 Ivy League championship. Prior to head coach, Elko served as defensive coordinator at Stony Brook University, University of Pennsylvania, U.S. Merchant Marine Academy, Fordham University, the University of Richmond, Hofstra University, Bowling Green State University, Wake Forest University, and the University of Notre Dame.

Elko is married to the former Michelle Madison and they are the parents of three children: Michael, Andrew and Kaitlyn.

Head Coaching Record Overall 17–10 Bowls 1–0

Accomplishments, Honors and Awards ACC Coach of the Year (2022)