Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Suck it up Princess!

Have you ever shouted this at one of your kids as they lay injured on an athletic field? No? Obviously you people are way too nice and are on the wrong blog. Go see my wife’s blog or Danielle Bean’s or Elizabeth Foss’ – they are nice people. So are the other parents at the games I go to, at least judging by the looks of horror they give me when I shout out things like that at my kids. Kids today are such Drama Queens and softies. I blame it on watching too much European Soccer, those French and Italians flop way too much. The Irish do too but they are falling down for a different reason.

Now of course I’m not going to yell that if there is a bone sticking out of the skin or blood gushing out like the Black Knight in the Holy Grail (“It’s just a flesh wound”).

But these minor injuries; where the kid lays down on the ground and rolls around banging the turf like he’s having some kind of seizure, puhleeze. Man Up Dude! And what’s with everyone else on the field taking a knee while the player is down (it’s not like they are praying for her) or then the parents on both sides clapping when the ‘injured’ kid hobbles of the field? What the heck is that about? If I was the kid I’d be awfully tempted to give them all half a peace-sign. If they are truly hurt they do not want all that attention – at least boys don’t.

And don’t give me the ‘a fake injury is good strategy’ garbage either. I don’t care. It’s unseemly and unmanly.

And what’s with all the snacks and drinks at each game. It’s like a buffet at the Golden Corral. Some of the teams my kids play on assign 3 parents per game to bring food items. One to bring oranges for halftime (already sliced of course), one to bring drinks for after the game and one to bring a snack for after the game. I’m surprised someone isn’t assigned to bring Kleenex in case one of the little darlings needs to blow his nose. It has gotten ridiculous. Kids even bring snacks and Gatorade to practices now. A few years ago one of the boys joined a new soccer team and at the first practice the coach announced “…and we won’t be doing any of this snack nonsense for the games…” My kind of guy.

When I was a kid you might have brought an old milk or soda bottle with you that had some water in it or the coach might have had a water jug for the game. But that was it. No fruit roll-ups or grapes or Power Bars. (Now it’s one thing if it’s really hot out there and/or a long game/pratice. I do realize the importance of proper hydration.)

When I was a kid here is how the conversation went on Saturday morning before my games:

Me: ‘dad my game is this morning can you drop me off’? (note that I didn’t assume he would be at the game)

Dad: ‘Ride your stinking bike. What did I buy it for you for anyway?’

Me: ‘but it’s 2 miles!’

Dad: ‘it’s good for you, builds character’

Me: ‘but what about bullies?’

Dad: ‘ride faster’

The things that go through ones mind during their lunch time run.


Anonymous said...

I leave your blog up "accidentally" so that my husband can see it before he logs onto the sports message boards. Eventually, he's going to catch on, but he's bound to love this one. I think I have heard the very same words out of his mouth.


the Mom said...

Those sissies. They don't know pain until they've run a marathon and have to limp back to the car to take off their shoes only to discover giant blisters and that they've lost two toenails. Now that's tough. What's a soccer ball to the head compared with running so hard your toenails fall off? No sympathy from me..the little wimps.

the Mom said...

Oh, and for some reason all that goes through my mind as I run is an endless loop of the Purple People Eater Song. Does this happen to anyone else or just to me?

the donk said...

i hope you coach my kids one day walt... this brought a tear to my eye... inspirational!!!! preach brother preach!!!!!!!!!!

Fr. V said...


I had just walked over from the school before reading this post. I just wanted to say to a couple of the kids, "Please get over the drama now before you grow up and it becomes a permanant fixture in your personality." But I didn't. (I would be tarred and feathered.)

Thanks for being sane.

momto5minnies said...

LOL! WIMPY KIDS. I definilety hear you on doing way too much.A little bit of helicopter parenting going on today.

Now I will say that I think that parents going to the games (or swim meets in my case)is really important. It makes me a little sad that my Dad never saw one of my swim races as a kid. I know, you are probably saying "boo hoo!"

I like Fr. V's comment too!

Michelle said...

Last year some parent emailed the whole lot of us about snacks writing, "Please don't forget to bring a few extra snacks and drinks for siblings." I "replied all" with: "Hi, everyone. Mother of 5 kids here. Please do not bring extra snacks for my children. I will bring snacks for them myself."

Snacks for after the game is somewhat annoying, but what really gets me are the beggar children who actually get in line expecting a handout just because they had to suffer through the game as a spectator.

I also got ticked off at the snacks for the scouts meeting at 630 pm. Feed your child dinner, for goodness sake.

Anonymous said...

You almost killed me! I laughed so hard when I read the conversation between you and your dad. Your dad may have been my dad's long lost twin. : )
I was in charge of bring snacks to my step-daughters' game one time ( it turns out...ONLY one time). When I asked her mom for ideas on what I should bring, she said, "I take Twinkies and soda, of those individual bags of Lays chips...something like that." First off, I don't get that stuff, my kids don't get that stuff, and since I only know ONE kid on that team, I am surely NOT providing stuff for those kids that I wouldn't give to my own, or myself. So...I took apples and cold water-in one of those big, blue, 5-gallon jugs-no bottled water for the brats. They looked at the (un-cut) apple in their hand as if it were some kind of foreign object they'd never seen before, and then glared at my step-daughter. Then I passed around the disposable paper cups I'd brought for the water, and told them that the jug was on the bench over yourself.
Surprisingly, I was never asked to bring snacks again. Even when her mom went out of town and it was her turn again. I wonder why...

Thanks for the laugh! You are my kind of dad.