It is a truth universally acknowledged that boys must always touch the top of door frames when walking through doors with friends. Why do they do this? Who knows.
Why do kids run in public places when they can easily walk?
Why do they drink soda and candy while playing basketball?
I have no idea. Kids are a mystery to me.
One particular part of this mystery is what happens to normal and logical individuals when youth sports are involved.
I’ve played youth sports and can only remember a handful of incidents of parents behaving badly. Now that I work with different youth sports programs, it seems to be more common than I realized.
A lot of parents that I deal with are great. They are supportive, dependable, and great with the kids.
We have the adulks. These are the parents who Hulk out at the sight of a basketball, the smell of the grass at the soccer field, or when they’re in view of the baseball diamond. Suddenly, parents become scary monsters that scream and berate children that just want to have fun. They become rude, demanding, and completely ridiculous.
I like to think adulks act this way because they love their children, not just because they are over competitive ass holes. I cringe when I hear a parent gripping at their kids for missing free throws or not catching a pop fly. I hate when they become visibly angry when their 8 year old kicks a ball out of bounds. I want to yell at these parents and call them dick weeds and cotton headed ninny muggins.
And then I see parents like the ones in front of me now as I write this, who are so excited for their children and congratulate them just for playing. They give their kids hugs and high fives and then they go about their day because they know its just a game.
I’ve seen other sporting facilities posting signs to remind adulks and spectators of this fact. Its a game.
Its not the Super Bowl. Its not the World Cup. Its not the World Series or the Olympics or the NBA finals. Its a kid’s game. Sometimes you lose and sometimes you win. Its supposed to be fun, not a life or death situation. Its not the Hunger Games people.
For us paper slinging desk peons, we are usually on the front lines of youth sports. We get yelled at, bitched at, and everything else one could imagine. We are human beings too, you know. We don’t want to put up with you and your bad attitude and rule breaking and hissy fit throwing ways and neither do your kids or the other parents.
So the moral of the story is to let kids be mysterious and goofy. Let them play sports and eat candy until they puke in the middle of the court. Let them be kids and save your Hulk-out adulk attitude for when you need to pick up a car or run a triathlon.
Also if these damn soccer parents call and be rude one more time IMMA HANG UP THE PHONE.
Desk Peons in Youth Sports