I had some good teachers - there was one in High School that all of us would have walked through fire and over broken glass to make her happy. She was strict, but she made you feel like she really cared about you beyond the classroom. To this day, I have a huge amount of respect for her.
I had some that were different and some who should have never been teachers to begin with.
My German teacher was from Germany. She was ancient and dyed her hair flaming red. Standing 5 feet tall, she might have weighed 90 pounds. If you didn't know the answer to a question she asked, she would throw the eraser at you, (and her aim was deadly). One time, she grabbed the stapler by mistake, (I think) and threw that instead. Luckly the student dodged the stapler. It hit the wall and broke which made her go into a rage about how we made her break her stapler. When she got really mad, she would curse us in German which is where I learned all my German curse words.
Our English teacher was a rather chesty young single blonde who would come to class every Monday morning with a hangover. She would tell us all to study quietly while she sat at her desk with her head in her hands, leaning over her desk. She ALWAYS wore low cut dresses or blouses which for some reason, made all us guys want to sit on the front row of class, (especially on Mondays).
Physics teacher was a former jock football/baseball star from years back. His class consisted of telling us of his glory days on the field. All you had to do was attend class and listen to his stories. If you threw in a question like, "how did you psych out the second base player?" that was an automatic "A." Needless to say, I got an "A" in Physics without learning a thing other than some very boring stories about baseball games and football games from this guys high school days.
And finally, our gym teacher. If we were running laps, the last one in line got a kick in the behind as he yelled "faster, faster!" If he got really mad, he would run up, grab you by the hair and yank you around for a while." I remember one time, another fellow and I got into a fist fight on the field during gym. Here comes the gym teacher who grabbed both of us by the hair, banged our heads together a few times and yelled something like "not on my time!" I google searched his name and found out he is living not too far south of where I live today. I wonder, if I stopped by to visit, would he remember me?