THERE'S ALWAYS ONE OBNOXIOUS PARENT IN THE STANDS

It Doesn't Have To Be US

The internet calls them helicopter parents, sideline coaches, backseat control freaks, white line fever, intimidators. I think I’ve known a few.

It may have been years ago, but I’ll never forget the week our cheerleaders worked really hard to support our football team. They even got all the teachers to create elaborate — and I mean elaborate — decorations for their doors. Only to find out Monday morning when they returned to school, some over-involved moms had come in over the weekend and torn down (and thrown away) all the decorations — so their sons’ feelings wouldn’t be hurt after losing their game.

If you know any teachers, you know how irate they were. Teachers save every piece of paper and every thumb tack so they can to use them again.

Maybe those were the same moms who complained we didn’t do the right cheers to inspire the crowd. If I remember right, I think they thought “…open up the barn door and let out the steer” would be better.

Then there were always those know-it-all, ego-driven parents who never played a sport in their whole lives but wanted their kid’s coaches fired because — they weren’t doing it right.

Or the overly-competitive dad who made his daughter run 6 miles home because she lost her track meet.

Well, I’m proud to say I was never one of those annoying parents when my kids played high school sports. Okay, okay, I admit, as a faculty member, I did boo the Willard Flashes’ basketball team once or twice. But that was definitely y-e-a-r-s ago.

Keeping our mouths shut as grandparents.

So

Recently, I was actually surprised that there were some latent tendencies emerging in my older age. Apparently, a parent’s or grandparent’s inclination to protect their children or to live through them can still raise its ugly head even later in life.

I was standing among some trees at the golf course waiting for one of my daughter’s young players to tee off when I heard a man yell, “Hit the damn ball!” He was sitting in his golf cart right along the fairway where the girl would probably hit.

I said with a bit of irritation, “Sir, I think she’s waiting for you to get out of the way.”

He kinda sneered at me and said, “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Well, you act like it.”

I wasn’t sure if the confrontation was on or not when he got out of his cart and strutted toward me. Puffing up his chest and straightening his belt, he asked, “Are you one of Upper’s bus drivers? I think I’ve seen you before.”

I’m not too sure what that meant since we were playing at home, but I said, “No, I’m a retired teacher from Upper.” And then I couldn’t help myself, I bragged, “And I’m the coach’s mother.”

“You’re Mindy’s mom?” He looked startled.

Oh boy, it struck me all of a sudden: I had almost become one of those obnoxious sport parents — at 79 years old.

Studies show that 70% of kids quit playing organized sports by the time they are thirteen because parent involvement and adult-driven expectations have ruined their fun. Thank heavens, Mindy is a lot older than thirteen.

And I sure hope it’s not too late to control me.

It’ll Be OK.

~*~

“ My young daughter stopped dribbling and started talking to the girl guarding her. Then she just gave her the basketball because ‘She wouldn’t stop waving her hands, and it was getting annoying.’ So dreams of that athletic scholarship may be on hold.” ~ NicholasG

If you have time, please comment. Did your kids play sports? Did you play sports? I’d love to hear from you.