Got the little one up early this morning and popped her into a cold shower to help clear away the Ambien she takes to make sure she gets a full night’s sleep. Maybe she should have taken her Ritalin before the shower and that would have calmed her tantrum a little, but as usual I didn’t give it to her until it was too late. It hadn’t quite kicked in by the time she came to the table so I caved a little bit and gave her the Fruit Loops she wanted instead of the power breakfast I had prepared, but I poured on some Muscle Milk and gave her a protein shake to help wash down her multi-vitamin and L-Arginine. I drove her to school so that she doesn’t have to share the bus with the kids who have colds, head lice, or mal-adjusted parents, and I reminded her to act-up with the teacher in the first 15 minutes so that she gets made to sit away from all the bug carriers.
The teachers won’t administer the kid’s medications these days so I had to pop down to the school a half-hour before gym class and give her a couple of Tylenol so she could exercise through the pain of her Osgood-Schattlers. Then I went in again at lunchtime to give her a Five Hour Energy for the afternoon session and picked her up at 2.30 which is perfect timing to get her fed full of high-fiber, full grain pasta before practice starts.
I let the coach know that she had already taken her Gatorade Prime in the car on the way there and that her Gatorade Perform was in her bag. Normally I like to watch practice but I had to pop out to the store because we were out of Gatorade Recover and I wanted to have some by the time she finished. The coach was appreciative of my efforts and let me know that he himself had taken a couple of Cialis just in case it was of any interest to me.
When we got home I was going to give her some Natrol to help her focus on her school stuff but we decided to blow off her homework in favor of watching a documentary on the Discovery Channel about Barry Bonds and all the performance enhancing drugs the cheating rat took. I hope she understood the message I was trying to send her.
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Friday, October 15, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Sensitive Approach
There’s a lot we parents can learn from the modern youth soccer coach regarding how best to handle difficult situations. Sometimes the sensitivity of these trained professionals is just awe-inspiring. However, I have to be honest and say that at first I wasn’t quite clued-in to our Highschool coach’s way of thinking when my eldest came and told me that she’d overheard him disparaging one of our freshmen during his regular flirt-fests with his three senior captains. But once I had spoken to him and received his wisdom it all became clear. It seems the coach believes it is important that his experienced girls understand that the ‘homely little geek’ freshman might not be able to perform at the big moments, and so her ‘bony little ass’ will be fixed to the bench during play-offs. That sort of caring attitude to ensure the little one doesn’t make a fool of her self has inspired me to take a leaf out of his book. So I’ve let all the parents know that the coach might not be able to perform at the big moments either, just like he couldn’t for me that time we both got carried away in a Holiday Inn Express at the Best of The Midwest Tournament in 2005. It’s good to pass on this sort of information because, as the coach says, a problem shared is a problem halved.
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Friday, October 8, 2010
Losing Streak
A flurry of lawsuits have been issued following a recent high-school soccer match reports The Oregasmian newspaper in Portland. The game was played out on Thursday evening between the Sundown Shadows and the Adios Amigos, but was interrupted in the 22nd minute of the second half when a nude model from a local art class inadvertently strayed onto the field of play.
The Amigos have filed suit claiming that their winning streak of two and a half matches only came to an ignominious 12-0 end when the referee failed to spot that there were three balls on the field of play at the same time. They have applied to the Court of Arbitration for Sport’s parental over-reaction division to have the result overturned citing the clutching-at-straws clause in their league’s rules.
Meanwhile, three students from the Sundown team have filed suit against their Human Anatomy teacher citing charges of gross exaggeration. The teacher has countersued with her lawyer pointing out just how cold it was on Thursday evening.
The nude model has filed a claim against Portland Metal Fencing LLC for severe injuries sustained while making a hasty exit from the unfortunate incident. The company’s attorney has moved to have the charges decreed incompetent by virtue of the fact that the gender of complainant filing the suit, and the gender of the person leaping the fence are different.
Charges may also arise from two 90 year old women who were in the front row of the bleachers as the model made his/her exit. Apparently one of them had a stroke but the other couldn’t reach.
Sundown Athletic Director G.T.B Asilvalining was upbeat about the educational values of the incident pointing out that the students were being given a great insight into the long American tradition of harmless fun resulting in frivolous lawsuits.
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The Amigos have filed suit claiming that their winning streak of two and a half matches only came to an ignominious 12-0 end when the referee failed to spot that there were three balls on the field of play at the same time. They have applied to the Court of Arbitration for Sport’s parental over-reaction division to have the result overturned citing the clutching-at-straws clause in their league’s rules.
Meanwhile, three students from the Sundown team have filed suit against their Human Anatomy teacher citing charges of gross exaggeration. The teacher has countersued with her lawyer pointing out just how cold it was on Thursday evening.
The nude model has filed a claim against Portland Metal Fencing LLC for severe injuries sustained while making a hasty exit from the unfortunate incident. The company’s attorney has moved to have the charges decreed incompetent by virtue of the fact that the gender of complainant filing the suit, and the gender of the person leaping the fence are different.
Charges may also arise from two 90 year old women who were in the front row of the bleachers as the model made his/her exit. Apparently one of them had a stroke but the other couldn’t reach.
Sundown Athletic Director G.T.B Asilvalining was upbeat about the educational values of the incident pointing out that the students were being given a great insight into the long American tradition of harmless fun resulting in frivolous lawsuits.
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Bias and (in)competence.
I got a bit of a shock to my system when I discovered that there might just be a debate going on in one of the soccer websites that I occasionally grace with my increasingly famous, media-friendly presence (http://www.examiner.com/soccer-in-seattle/satire-from-the-sidelines-soccer-mom). We need to nip this trend in the bud or else we might end up with a situation where these forums develop in the sort of place where our little dysfunctional community could come together and discuss the issues our game faces in a reasonable manner. People need to realize that the internet is specifically designed to allow us to savage each other, indulge in salacious gossip, shout down our detractors, and (most importantly) ridicule the efforts of pre-teen children. If we get any more of this trendy, lefty, liberal, discussion non-sense, we’re going to end up having a reasoned consideration of all the issues arising out of the unfortunate soccer ‘sex scandal’ situation I’ve been reading about and that’s the last thing anyone wants.
So anyway, the big ‘debate’ seems to be about the difference between ‘bias’ and ‘(in)-competence’. Now I’m just like every other red-blooded, right thinking, American who wants to compartmentalize everyone into their specific area – black/white, left/right, male/superior – but in this case I think it might just be possible to be multi-faceted.
For example, my girlfriend was telling me last night about her kid’s high school game. Apparently in the last minute the blind fat-ass ref called a PK against her kid for a totally innocuous challenge that was actually ten-feet outside the box when the little bitch on the other team threw herself to her knees faster than Monica in the oval office. The opposition only scored the kick after a re-take when the homer ref said the keeper moved off her line, three kids encroached, and our coach shouted “Scooby!” at the top of his voice just as the shooter was kicking. My girlfriend states that she was watching all three of those situations and none of them happened. She was so upset that she followed the ref to the parking lot, assured her daughter that it was not ‘just another game’, and taught all the girls on the team a few new swear words that they might find useful as their careers develop. So there you have it, 100% proof-positive that it is perfectly possible for a parent to be both biased and incompetent at the same time.
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So anyway, the big ‘debate’ seems to be about the difference between ‘bias’ and ‘(in)-competence’. Now I’m just like every other red-blooded, right thinking, American who wants to compartmentalize everyone into their specific area – black/white, left/right, male/superior – but in this case I think it might just be possible to be multi-faceted.
For example, my girlfriend was telling me last night about her kid’s high school game. Apparently in the last minute the blind fat-ass ref called a PK against her kid for a totally innocuous challenge that was actually ten-feet outside the box when the little bitch on the other team threw herself to her knees faster than Monica in the oval office. The opposition only scored the kick after a re-take when the homer ref said the keeper moved off her line, three kids encroached, and our coach shouted “Scooby!” at the top of his voice just as the shooter was kicking. My girlfriend states that she was watching all three of those situations and none of them happened. She was so upset that she followed the ref to the parking lot, assured her daughter that it was not ‘just another game’, and taught all the girls on the team a few new swear words that they might find useful as their careers develop. So there you have it, 100% proof-positive that it is perfectly possible for a parent to be both biased and incompetent at the same time.
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Friday, October 1, 2010
The AD's Plan
I know that for some of you the idea of the words “Athletic Director” and “Plan” appearing in the same sentence will be a bit of a surprise, but it seems that at Harebrayne High School over in Ecksklousion County such a bizarre circumstance might be about to come to pass. It seems that 43 years after the school’s last state championship – back when cow-tipping was still a varsity sport – they have been roused from their slumbers by the revelation that most of the board still did not know the AD’s name, even in spite of all that stuff in the media about the pole dancing club. Last night’s follow up school board meeting was a busy affair as over 50% of the entire school board actually showed up to hear the AD’s proposal to return the school to it’s former glory.
Step 1 will be for the school to resign from its membership of the BSTC Athletic Conference and seek membership of the Farm Boys and Hermits League in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It seems that, in spite of the fact that away games will now involve a 400 mile round trip, our AD feels that our school is much more aligned with these remote-from-reality schools than they are with the other members of the Big School Tough Competition conference. The AD went on to say that with 500 more kids than any other school in our new league we were bound to win something. This comment brought the enthusiastic audience to their feet with the school’s war cry of “Don’t Bet On It!” ringing around the room.
Step 2 is intended to bring further post season glory to the school’s soccer team after their unprecedented success last year when neighboring Krackhead High’s disqualification gave the school a berth in the second round of play offs for the first time in history. With the smell of success in his nostrils the AD is going for glory with his plan to close his school’s special education unit and end it’s policy of inclusion in the mainstream school system for any kids with difficulties. Packing these kids off to some special education unit on the other side of the county should drop the school roll by enough to merit a move down into Division II before the season kicks off. The AD’s position is that none of these retards, ding-bats, and social misfits are eligible to play sports anyway so why should they be included on our head count? In the longer term the AD feels that by removing the wheel chair access ramps, demonizing the gay students, and inciting a little creative racial tension a move to Division III is not out of the question. In the meantime, to celebrate their move to Division II, the school will supply each student with a spirit t-shirt emblazoned with their new catch phrase of “All For One, and One For All”.
A lone dissenting voice from the floor in the shape of the soccer boosters chairman was heard to suggest an alternative strategy of qualified coaches, stronger ties with the travel soccer community, and an inclusive educational focus, was shouted down as the crowd looked forward to receiving one of the tacky wooden trophies the MHSAA awards to schools who have stomped over everyone else and learned the life lessons we all get from participation in school sports.
Step 1 will be for the school to resign from its membership of the BSTC Athletic Conference and seek membership of the Farm Boys and Hermits League in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It seems that, in spite of the fact that away games will now involve a 400 mile round trip, our AD feels that our school is much more aligned with these remote-from-reality schools than they are with the other members of the Big School Tough Competition conference. The AD went on to say that with 500 more kids than any other school in our new league we were bound to win something. This comment brought the enthusiastic audience to their feet with the school’s war cry of “Don’t Bet On It!” ringing around the room.
Step 2 is intended to bring further post season glory to the school’s soccer team after their unprecedented success last year when neighboring Krackhead High’s disqualification gave the school a berth in the second round of play offs for the first time in history. With the smell of success in his nostrils the AD is going for glory with his plan to close his school’s special education unit and end it’s policy of inclusion in the mainstream school system for any kids with difficulties. Packing these kids off to some special education unit on the other side of the county should drop the school roll by enough to merit a move down into Division II before the season kicks off. The AD’s position is that none of these retards, ding-bats, and social misfits are eligible to play sports anyway so why should they be included on our head count? In the longer term the AD feels that by removing the wheel chair access ramps, demonizing the gay students, and inciting a little creative racial tension a move to Division III is not out of the question. In the meantime, to celebrate their move to Division II, the school will supply each student with a spirit t-shirt emblazoned with their new catch phrase of “All For One, and One For All”.
A lone dissenting voice from the floor in the shape of the soccer boosters chairman was heard to suggest an alternative strategy of qualified coaches, stronger ties with the travel soccer community, and an inclusive educational focus, was shouted down as the crowd looked forward to receiving one of the tacky wooden trophies the MHSAA awards to schools who have stomped over everyone else and learned the life lessons we all get from participation in school sports.
Monday, September 27, 2010
My Kid Is Great......Again!
After a little bit of a lull it looks like my kid is back to being the god-like-genius that my financial investment in him merits! No longer is he out in the wilderness where he was being roundly ignored by the high priests of soccer wisdom, but now, once more, he is being hailed by the grand order of college coaches as the new messiah of the world game. As fall has rolled around my inbox has begun to fill up with messages paying homage to the chosen one and hailing him as being a “key part of our recruiting plans”, an “outstanding prospect”, and “able to make an immediate impact”. As a parent, it’s gratifying to hear this from these wise men that can spot the chosen one in his fledgling stages. I’m particularly impressed with the coach who wrote to say he had recognized my son’s abilities during an academy game in which he wasn’t even rostered. The insight of these prophets is truly awe-inspiring.
Of course, each of them also understands that my particular savior is still a work in progress and, to a man, they have recognized that all he needs to do to reach his god-given potential is simply sign up for their up-coming, $300, winter recruiting camp. It actually feels like previous occasion that my son was hailed as a genius in the halcyon days of spring and these same priests were clamoring over each other to get the chosen one to sign up for their summer camps.
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Of course, each of them also understands that my particular savior is still a work in progress and, to a man, they have recognized that all he needs to do to reach his god-given potential is simply sign up for their up-coming, $300, winter recruiting camp. It actually feels like previous occasion that my son was hailed as a genius in the halcyon days of spring and these same priests were clamoring over each other to get the chosen one to sign up for their summer camps.
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Friday, September 3, 2010
My Season Begins
And so the Labor Day holiday brings the official start of another soccer season. From here on out the travel programs can play league games and the high school boys can play their conference games. I’ve always thought that Labor Day was a bit of an un-American holiday given it’s socialist overtones and so I’m going to suggest we re-name it ‘Three Check Day’ since most of us travel soccer parents have already written three checks to their soccer club by the time the start of September rolls around. It’s funny how we are all desperate to write that first check at tryouts in June so that it feels like our kid really has made the team, but how we resent writing the third one because we still haven’t seen anything in return.
That’s not to suggest that financial problems are exclusive to travel soccer. Our boys high school program has had severe cut backs this season. The Varsity assistant coach is no longer going to be a paid post, the uniforms have to be used for a seventh season, the bus will only take the kids to away games leaving them to make their own way back, and the qualified athletic trainer has been replaced by a volunteer in the shape of Eddie Zabrinski’s uncle Benny who took a pre-veterinarian class in Idaho in 1968. With the money saved the school should be able to add another assistant coach to stand alongside the seven other 350lb train wrecks that “coach” the football program.
I guess the nightmare scenario for the school will be if un-qualified Benny treats an injured player by wrapping a flea invested seven year old jersey around an open cut and then leaves the disoriented kid to drive himself home to the suburbs from somewhere in downtown Flint, Michigan. Still, maybe the kid won’t live long enough to sue.
The tough part of any new season is, of course, scheduling. Monday night is the worst for us. I pick the little one up at 3pm and drop her at practice where she waits alone for 40 minutes with a pop-tart and Gatorade for the rest of her team to show up. I dash off to pick up the boy and get him to practice before taking the eldest to conditioning classes and get back for the little one hoping to goodness that I’m not last to arrive because I still worry over those stories about our coach and the U15 goalkeeper. We can usually swing back for the boy in time and if he jumps straight in the car we can normally stand the smell of his shinpads because it means we don’t have to listen to my eldest bitching about how long she’s had to wait. Of course it all goes FUBAR if the boy’s coach does his usual ‘extra running because that’s what I did back in the 70s’ thing. From there we like to sit down as a family and have a well-balanced, nutritious, meal from the drive-through at Taco-Bell. If I get home early enough the kids might just manage their homework while I wash the gear for tomorrow and try as hard as I can to remember what the coach said about us all needing to show a little more dedication.
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That’s not to suggest that financial problems are exclusive to travel soccer. Our boys high school program has had severe cut backs this season. The Varsity assistant coach is no longer going to be a paid post, the uniforms have to be used for a seventh season, the bus will only take the kids to away games leaving them to make their own way back, and the qualified athletic trainer has been replaced by a volunteer in the shape of Eddie Zabrinski’s uncle Benny who took a pre-veterinarian class in Idaho in 1968. With the money saved the school should be able to add another assistant coach to stand alongside the seven other 350lb train wrecks that “coach” the football program.
I guess the nightmare scenario for the school will be if un-qualified Benny treats an injured player by wrapping a flea invested seven year old jersey around an open cut and then leaves the disoriented kid to drive himself home to the suburbs from somewhere in downtown Flint, Michigan. Still, maybe the kid won’t live long enough to sue.
The tough part of any new season is, of course, scheduling. Monday night is the worst for us. I pick the little one up at 3pm and drop her at practice where she waits alone for 40 minutes with a pop-tart and Gatorade for the rest of her team to show up. I dash off to pick up the boy and get him to practice before taking the eldest to conditioning classes and get back for the little one hoping to goodness that I’m not last to arrive because I still worry over those stories about our coach and the U15 goalkeeper. We can usually swing back for the boy in time and if he jumps straight in the car we can normally stand the smell of his shinpads because it means we don’t have to listen to my eldest bitching about how long she’s had to wait. Of course it all goes FUBAR if the boy’s coach does his usual ‘extra running because that’s what I did back in the 70s’ thing. From there we like to sit down as a family and have a well-balanced, nutritious, meal from the drive-through at Taco-Bell. If I get home early enough the kids might just manage their homework while I wash the gear for tomorrow and try as hard as I can to remember what the coach said about us all needing to show a little more dedication.
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