10 ways to avoid being one of Charlotte’s idiot sports parents
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The majority of people lie firmly in the middle of the sports parent spectrum, somewhere in between “Angrily Wants to Relive Marginal High School Sports Career” and “Zoned Out on Anxiety Medication.” Let’s call them “Eager to Encourage as Long as Kids are Having Fun.”
The majority of parents believe that sports is a great avenue for kids to have fun while reinforcing life skills like teamwork, discipline and fair play. They understand that sports is a microcosm of a society in which hard work might not always equal success, but should at least result in a sense of accomplishment.
This advice is not meant for those people.
This is meant for the outliers. The two tail ends of the bell curve that represent 5 percent of the population. I’ve watched them on football, soccer, baseball and lacrosse fields. I’ve observed them on basketball and tennis courts.
Kid #1 is only six, which means it’s only taken me a handful of seasons to grow tired of the multitude of morons that grace the sidelines from the farms of Mooresville to the McMansions of Union County.
As the kids return to school and the fall sports season ramps up, here is your guide to not being an Idiot Sports Parent.
(1) Show up on time. Elementary-age kids are little balls of psychotic ADHD patients and when little Logan comes plodding into practice 15 minutes late while you’re chatting on your phablet to your bestie whose second marriage is failing because she got hooked on her daughter’s bath salts, it kind of disrupts things.
(2) Coaches aren’t babysitters. If Reagan has behavioral issues then you still have to deal with him. Ever watch a coach’s kid misbehave or act out against other children? That kid is picked up by the ear and dropped on the sideline faster than you can say, “Did you remember to have your probiotics at halftime?” Coaches don’t really feel comfortable disciplining your kid, especially when you’re sitting five feet away with a look like, “I’m off the clock.”
(3) Saying hello, goodbye and thanks is common courtesy. It’s incredible how many people – kids AND parents – can’t be bothered to say three simple words. Coaches are volunteers who choose to spend hours with groups of fun and insane kids. They volunteer in part because they want to spend time with their own children, but they also do it because they take joy in seeing the happiness and progress of every other kid on the team. In exchange, you can be bothered to say hello, goodbye and thanks.
(4) If your spouse is a loudmouth a-hole who screams at other kids, referees or umpires, please deal with them without the coaches or other parents having to ask. Also, at halftime have them go home and re-evaluate their priorities in life. Clearly there is an emptiness that needs to be filled by something. Ashley Madison seems to be popular right now…
(5) Tie your kid’s shoes. When they come untied, call him or her over and retie them. This isn’t a major gripe but focusing elementary kids is like corralling chickens. Stop to tie one shoe and all of sudden there are four kids trying to stick boogers to butterflies, one’s elbow deep scratching something in his shorts, and the other two playing hide-and-go-seek on a 6-acre field with nowhere to hide.
(6) Unless there was a car accident, how can anyone show up late to retrieve your child from practice? I hope you’re aware that your self-centeredness is clinical. Though, in fairness, I guess you’d have to be self-aware to understand that. I doubt you have many friends.
(7) Coaches buy inexpensive equipment like cones and pinnies because sometimes leagues don’t supply them. After practice maybe you can take the pinnie off Heathrow and place it in the ball bag, instead of tossing it in the vicinity of the court and a week later after it’s gone missing saying, “Oh, sorry, I put it right over there (pointing to the entire gymnasium).”
(8) If you’re not coming to a game or practice, common decency says you notify the coach. Where in life is it acceptable to commit to a group activity and then not show up without telling the others that you’re not coming? Someday your child is going to call you from an overpriced college and ask you how to do laundry.
(9) If Hartsfield hates football, maybe ask if he’d like to play something else before saddling the coach with a sad, angry, disinterested kid for two hours a week over two months? It’s not the coaches’ job to make kids like a sport, it’s their job to encourage and nurture their interest in a thousand different ways. Does Dulles cry every time he goes to practice because he finds baseball to be the most boring sport ever invented? Eat the $60 fee and don’t make him go anymore. There’s a very thick line between encouraging kids to go beyond their comfort zone, and having to Taser them to get into the car to go to practice.
(10) Outside of allergy situations, it’s your responsibility to deal with the diet restrictions you’ve saddled upon your children. Little Larry doesn’t drink high fructose corn sweetener? Fine, but a coach shouldn’t have to ask a parent to bring ten juice boxes and one organic, agave-sweetened, hand-picked-and-squeezed Washington apple juice packaged in PBA-free, post-consumer recyclable package for your child. Allergies should be accommodated. Your decision to forgo Yellow Dye No. 5 because the Food Babe is your spirit guide? That’s your problem.
Enjoy the games. Or at the very least, put down your cell phone. Never at any moment in your life will anything occur on your phone that is more interesting that what is going on right in front of your eyes.