On to the big leftie...yep, he had his meeting with the head coach who wants to see him succeed. Again, if the big kid is successful, it makes the coach look good. Although, I am sure that the guy would perform better if the coaches were not so emotionally labile. In other words, he never knows when he is going to either be screamed at or pulled out of a game or patted on the back. This adds anxiety to the mix.
His new friend, the big league pitcher told him not to think....just throw....focus....
His high school coach, Coach T, who is still in the minors, told him to just throw....
The coaches told him to stop being so analytical.....
The sports psychologist said: "Throw!"
BP momma said: "oye!"
Tomorrow night is the big kick off the season dinner at one of the campus hotels. For $60.00 a person, we get to travel to campus and have a rubbery chicken dinner with cash bar (2 please) and listen to the coaches (whom I love, NOT!) pontificate about how great they are, what a good season they are going to have, and what a super cohesive group of guys they have the privilege of coaching. I can write the speech.
Yes, I am going and will be a nice mom and not open my mouth when I really want to 'school' the pitching coach. As Tink reminded me, "he does not want to meet Dr. BP Mom....." That's right Tink, when I pull out the doc credential, suddenly the person gets quiet and we make eye contact...and then....boom...Dr. BP momma has struck...like a snake bite....quick...lethal....
No? You don't believe it? Well, let me share with you one example of Dr. BP mom striking her victim without leaving any forensic evidence.....Fade to black.....
Six years ago, the big leftie was playing for a local league. His dad had coached him for a number of years, but when he entered the high school league at 14, dad bowed out. He knew that he was done with coaching AND he refused to wear the coach's baseball uniform. Too old to wear a costume....anyway.....
I was home packing the house to move and was not going to attend the game. Tink went with the boys and sat in the stands. The head coach saw dad with Tink and asked him to keep the 'book' of statistics in the dugout. Complying, dad went in.....
Now, here is where it gets nasty....as Tink watched the game, a few of the parents who were not fond of dad's coaching in the past, got salty and began to talk smack about him. Poor Tink was sitting in front of them as they said some incredibly mean things about her father. Beginning to cry, she left the stands, called me at home, and reported what had happened. I asked her if she wanted me to pick her up or if she was going to stay. "I'll stay....but I moved my seat...."
Moved her seat? Hmmmm...talking snarky about the kid's father in front of her...these are the people who sit in the stands, criticize the coaches, think that their sons are studs, and never volunteer to even bring a snack for the kids or pick up their trash.....who are they to do something like this, especially in front of Tink?
As I continued to pack, I ruminated about the incident and then reality hit me like a brick. Oh no, this will not work. No one has license to talk like that in front of a kid. If you think it, so be it. But to gossip and be nasty in front of the guy's daughter is not acceptable....And so, Dr. BP mom emerged....kind of like....the Incredible Hulk when he gets angry. He goes from mild mannered Bruce Banner into this greenish monster....that was me.....but in a controlled manner.
Getting out of the car at the field, the game was in the third inning.....I saw Tink and asked her to point out the perp...there he was....I made eye contact with the incredibly short and stout weasel....
"Excuse me....may I have a minute of your time? Out here...away from the stands......just you and me?"
Boom! The first salvo struck. The guy looked like he was going to vomit. He got down from the stands and walked toward me...almost like the Green Mile....death row....or perhaps the wood shed.
No physical abuse coming....just a discussion...mano y mana....yeah, you and me, pal....Time for you to talk smack in front of me.
I then carefully pointed out my daughter. I asked him if he knew that she was sitting in front of him while he made fun of her father....?No? "Oh, that's too bad. because she heard everything negative that you said about him. Did you know that you made her cry? ?No? well, you did. She is very upset right now. By the way, since you do not volunteer but have an opinion, it is not based on fact. The facts are.......The next time that you want to make fun of someone's volunteer father, please make sure that you do it in privacy and not in front a group of people."
"Thank you for listening to me. You can return to your seat. Is that a puddle around your feet? Wet your pants, you coward? Have a great day."
Then Tink and I left.
Yep, quick....eye contact....moving the lips only.....by the way, I was taller by three inches than this trouble making father. He looked up at me as I looked down at him. Am I proud of this moment? Hmmmm....yeah....I think so. Should I be? Um...maybe not proud, but it had to be done and I was the person to do it.
I could have left it alone, after all, I was not there to hear it. But when someone messes with one of my kids, the Hulk emerges. In a way, it is not like I was protecting only my kids but all the kids in the community. Face it, if you are a coach, you are going to be criticized by parents and players. It's the American way. They can say anything that they like, but they have to 'own' it. In other words, if you have a problem with a coach, go to them personally. Gossiping is just stupid.
Also, if you can do a better job...do it....Monday morning quarterbacking is always accurate, right? In reality, every time dad coached, he left work early. Our paycheck is based on his hourly billing. Therefore, if he does not work, he does not earn money. This was not an issue for him. It was more important to be there for his son and the other boys. Again, another fact, that the gossipers were unaware of....and so....I leave you with some advice.....
Pull out the beast only when necessary. As I said before, bullies, such as the little sunflower spitting, smack talking dad in the stands, are cowards. If he really did not like the way things were done, he should have privately spoken to the coach. I believe that this is called maturity. Most of these boys are wonderful young men now. They are lucky to have grown up so well, especially since they did not learn class or manners from their parents.
Later!
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