Imagine that you were an 11-year-old girl.
Your sitting on the soccer field laughing and talking to your teammates. You just finished playing the first half of the game, half time just ended, and you’re still catching your breath before the coach puts you back in. As soon as you feel recovered, you hear the coach calling your name because it’s time to get substituted in. You jump to your feet with a huge smile on your face and race to the sideline with three other substitutions. Then all of a sudden, you hear a loud booming voice charging towards you.
His fist balled up tight; his shirt is disheveled and wearing a crazy look in his eyes. Once he gets closer, he yells out:
“What the fuck is going on,” Why isn’t my daughter playing in this game?”
“What kind of fucking coach are you”?
Yep, that’s what an 11-year-old girl had to endure last week while my husband was coaching the soccer game. And while she was in the game during the first half he yelled at her the entire time because she wasn’t playing up to his standards.
I felt sick to my stomach that someone would yell and curse for the whole team to hear and embarrass their kid like that. My first thought was, what is this guy like at home if he feels so free to act like this in public. I imagine the little girl is used to his behavior, and she tried her best to ignore him. He screamed from the top of his lungs, “GET OVER HERE AND LET’S GO, FUCK THIS GAME.”
My husband remained silent and kept his attention on the game. Even though I knew inside, he was boiling mad and wanted to knock this guy out. ~Age and wisdom have calmed my husband well unless he’s the one playing a sport.
The little girl stood beside my husband and seemed to inch closer and closer to him. Her hesitation made her grumpy dad even more upset as he marched towards the parking lot. As he approached his car, he turned around and yelled out one more time. By this time, all of the attention was on him and not the game.
My heart broke as the little girl ran off to meet him at the car. Her head was down, shoulders rounded, and an absolute look of devastation on her face.
After the game, I didn’t say anything to my husband because I knew he was upset about the incident and needed time to digest what just happened. He looks forward to coaching his soccer and basketball teams and all for free, may I add. This makes screaming parents even more annoying because, without volunteers like my husband, there wouldn’t be a season!
Anyway, when my husband finally said something to me about it, I told him to email the director, and he will handle this messy situation. The director is good about getting parents straight and letting them know they are banned from the fields.
I only wish he could be banned from being a parent!
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