Will it ever end? Rude behavior at a youth soccer game doesn't go unnoticed.
Children should enjoy their time on the soccer pitch without the distorted emotions of overwraught parents ... but that's a wish in vain too many times, says Tim Warsinskey.CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Hard to say where to start this one, so when in doubt, I always say, quote The Godfather:
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.
I've spent years writing about parents of youth and high school athletes, especially after becoming one. Sitting in the stands and on the sidelines gave me plenty of fodder. Usually, the theme was simple: Don't be an idiot.
It was the furthest thing from my mind Saturday while watching my oldest grandson follow his 7- and 8-year-old teammates chasing a little soccer ball in baggy jerseys draped to their knees. I love being the granddad at games. All the fun. None of the stress.
At this particular game, I delighted in watching the referee, who constantly took the time to instruct and even demonstrate how to properly throw the ball in from the sideline. He asked players their names, and told them "Good job" after they got it right. All around us, parents were cheering and clapping and encouraging.
How wonderful.
Then like a hammer through a window, the serene scene was shattered.
"Pass the damn ball!" boomed a voice from somewhere near us.
It rolled through me like a shock wave. Did I just hear an adult say "Pass the damn ball?"
Yes, my daughter told me, it came from the field behind us.
Oh, brother. I shook my head and tried to go back to watching the little guys and girls scurrying about in front of me, but it was hard to think good thoughts.
Then it happened again.
"Get your ass in there!"
What the...?
I turned around and was glued to the scene unfolding.
The source of the voice was a coach/parent, dressed in black, who was being admonished by a mop-haired, teenage referee.
"I warned you once about your language," the young ref said.
"What are you going to do about it?" the coach challenged.
The referee pulled out a red card and held it up. The coach was ejected, muttered something I couldn't hear and skulked away.
When the game was over, the ref walked quietly toward the parking lot before I had a chance to thank him for doing his level best in a battle against idiocy that has gone on for generations, and apparently is well on its way in the next one.