Neutral Corner
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2014
- Messages
- 43,131
That's great.
When my son was 7 or 8 I was an asst. coach on his Little League team. We had a good season and made the All-Star team, with me continuing to coach. We lived in an affluent area, and there were a lot of classic pushy, opinionated parents. All-Stars is a short, intense season and the parents generally didn't know most of the coaches well. Some of them were a little much.
It was a pitching machine league, and I was the guy delivering the ball. My job was to set the kid up, be sure I had the batter's attention and to make the timing and delivery as uniform as I could. We're in a close game, and this one kid's mother keeps yelling at him, telling him what to do, changing his position, etc. After a while it really started to annoy me. I told the kid, call him Buddy, how I wanted him set up and she immediately contradicted me. I got pissed off and stepped off for a second, looked out to the outfield and was talking to myself, when one of the other coaches jogs over and asks what's wrong.
"I keep trying to get Buddy to set up to hit toward third, and everything I say, his contrary bench of a mother tells him something different, and I'm about to blow a blood vessel!"
Yeah. Buddy's mom was his wife. Full credit, he didn't bat an eye and went and told her to stick a sock in it, but I was forking mortified.
When my son was 7 or 8 I was an asst. coach on his Little League team. We had a good season and made the All-Star team, with me continuing to coach. We lived in an affluent area, and there were a lot of classic pushy, opinionated parents. All-Stars is a short, intense season and the parents generally didn't know most of the coaches well. Some of them were a little much.
It was a pitching machine league, and I was the guy delivering the ball. My job was to set the kid up, be sure I had the batter's attention and to make the timing and delivery as uniform as I could. We're in a close game, and this one kid's mother keeps yelling at him, telling him what to do, changing his position, etc. After a while it really started to annoy me. I told the kid, call him Buddy, how I wanted him set up and she immediately contradicted me. I got pissed off and stepped off for a second, looked out to the outfield and was talking to myself, when one of the other coaches jogs over and asks what's wrong.
"I keep trying to get Buddy to set up to hit toward third, and everything I say, his contrary bench of a mother tells him something different, and I'm about to blow a blood vessel!"
Yeah. Buddy's mom was his wife. Full credit, he didn't bat an eye and went and told her to stick a sock in it, but I was forking mortified.