Psycho Soccer Mom
8:41 AM Edit This 12 Comments »
Saturday morning, I got up early to go to see Munchkin Number One play soccer. It was a beautiful morning and Munchkin Number One likes an audience. Plus, Cowgirl has told me about the Soccer Moms that she has to deal with and I couldn't wait to witness it myself.
The game started innocently enough. The girls are nine. I want you to remember that. Nine. Excited parents shouting, "Run! Kick it hard!" I'm down with that. And I have a penchant for cheering for good plays. I don't care what team you're on, if someone did a good job, I'm going to jump up and clap. It makes them smile. And I likie the smiles.
But as the game went on? It got ugly. As in, I couldn't believe what I was hearing ugly. There was one mom in particular that I am pretty sure I stared at with my mouth agape, my eyes incredulous. And she gave me the evil eye every time I clapped for the other team.
"I'll tell you when you're tired!" To her daughter who is holding her side in pain. "You don't need a drink. I'll get you a drink when I think you need a drink." What? She's NINE! The yelling is not even really yelling. It's more like screaming. Hysterical screaming. And this girl is not happy. She doesn't go over to her mom when she sits out like the rest of the girls. She sits on a ball next to her coach, looking down at the ground. All I could think was, that's an eating disorder waiting to happen. Good Lord.
I turn to Cowgirl who says, "I know." I didn't even have to say anything. So when the game was almost over and Munchkin Number One was sitting on my lap waiting for the final whistle, Cowgirl says to her, "Are you having fun this year?" And Munchkin Number One says, "Not really. It was more fun last year." And Cowgirl nodded, because she will not subject her daughter to a sport she doesn't even enjoy. So we packed up and had ice cream for lunch. Because that sounded like a really good idea.
The game started innocently enough. The girls are nine. I want you to remember that. Nine. Excited parents shouting, "Run! Kick it hard!" I'm down with that. And I have a penchant for cheering for good plays. I don't care what team you're on, if someone did a good job, I'm going to jump up and clap. It makes them smile. And I likie the smiles.
But as the game went on? It got ugly. As in, I couldn't believe what I was hearing ugly. There was one mom in particular that I am pretty sure I stared at with my mouth agape, my eyes incredulous. And she gave me the evil eye every time I clapped for the other team.
"I'll tell you when you're tired!" To her daughter who is holding her side in pain. "You don't need a drink. I'll get you a drink when I think you need a drink." What? She's NINE! The yelling is not even really yelling. It's more like screaming. Hysterical screaming. And this girl is not happy. She doesn't go over to her mom when she sits out like the rest of the girls. She sits on a ball next to her coach, looking down at the ground. All I could think was, that's an eating disorder waiting to happen. Good Lord.
I turn to Cowgirl who says, "I know." I didn't even have to say anything. So when the game was almost over and Munchkin Number One was sitting on my lap waiting for the final whistle, Cowgirl says to her, "Are you having fun this year?" And Munchkin Number One says, "Not really. It was more fun last year." And Cowgirl nodded, because she will not subject her daughter to a sport she doesn't even enjoy. So we packed up and had ice cream for lunch. Because that sounded like a really good idea.
12 comments:
As a dad of two children, I surely don't get it either.
I'm pretty sure even professional athletes take a drink every now and again. GEEZ. My 8 year old plays sports... so you can imagine. The parents are one of the reasons I won't let him play Little League Football. Living vicariously through their children and most of the parents that get so into it, weren't athletes. EVER. So I don't get it.
As a former soccer coach I can tell you, it gets worse as they get older and ten times that for boys.
But us coaches try to keep it fun.
I'm having ice cream for lunch now lol thanks for the idea
Soccer moms are scary. Very. Now, most of my encounters with them have me on a bike and them in their minivans, so I may not be entirely unbiased.
People who live through their child's activities- and victories, are usually losers seeking redemption..
Oh good. Something to look forward to.
I can't understand people living through their children. Gah.
You almost made me choke on lunch. Seriously, I don't know what gets into some parents.
I've coached girls' softball and basketball, and I see it all the time. Makes me sad.
I once stopped a game after warning a parent twice about making rude comments to my players. I refused to let the game resume until he left.
I just don't understand that mentality, and I have no tolerance for it at all. Kids' sports are supposed to be FUN, and they're supposed to learn about sportsmanship. What are these parents teaching their kids?
When people talk about having a second childhood, I didn't think they meant taking over your own child's.
This made me flash back to my time playing Little Guy Soccer in Upstate New York in the early to mid 1970s. My mother was definitely not a soccer mom. She would come to only one game a year and she never would have made such a spectacle. Why, the very thought!
My mother has a name for folks like that mom you saw. She calls them gunny-asses. I have no idea where that term came from, but it seems to fit perfectly.
That's ridic! Push your kids a tad bit to try a little harder but don't push them to misery. Jeez! That's past the limit of encouragement to kick butt on the field.
two words:
menendez brothers
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