You sports mommies and daddies need to chill the hell out

You've all heard the phrase, "Those who can, do; those who can't, teach." When it comes to athletics, the phrase is, "Those who can, do; those who can't teach. Those who really want to be a pain in the ass have kids who play sports."

Once upon a time, especially in baseball, I could, so I did. I was pretty darned good. I can't anymore, so eventually, I will teach. But I will be damned if I ever act like these asshole parents you see at soccer, softball and baseball games on a daily basis. Those jokers need to grow the hell up and get some perspective.

Lo, those many years ago, I dealt with jerkoff parents when I was just in little league. I remember being called a "dummy" and a "jerk" because I had the nerve to complete an unassisted double play (a line drive hit to me at short, then stepped on second for two) instead of throwing it to some guy's kid. That was an outrage! I was 10. I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday nearly a quarter-century later. I also remember my father politely telling the guy (and I do mean politely) that if he opened his mouth again, he'd shove a baseball bat in it. Sideways. After the guy's wife told him he was an asshole, he got up to leave, fell down through the bleachers and broke his leg.

He was drunk in publick. That takes some doing in Abqaiq, Saudi Arabia.

That was my first experience with uberparent. When I made the traveling team (think super select team--we made the Little League and Senior League World Series, so there), it got even worse. Parents wanted to kick the crap out of the coaches (who largely deserved it), the other parents (who also largely deserved it) and the players their kids were competing with for playing time (who mostly didn't deserve it). It was hell, and I decided then and there that if I ever had a kid, I would take the Joe Gibbs approach to coaching/parenting--I'd be quiet, standing there watching everything with my arms folded and only talk when absolutely necessary, but damn it, if I did, there'd be some business going on.

When we moved to Texas, we knew stuff was competitive--after all, a cheerleader momma had just shot one of her daughter's competitors over in Sugar Land (or maybe it was mom on mom; whatever, it was totally screwed up). So you add that to the Traveling Team mentality and you have SPORTS MOMMY AND DADDY OF THE 21ST CENTURY!

And boy, do they suck.

I got my first experience with this species in the late 90s, when my little brother was playing 13-year-old league (or something like that). He played for this douche who not only didn't know shit about the game of baseball, he was only coaching to pimp his kids. One kid pitched, the other played short. The other talented kids weren't allowed to pitch, so, predictably, the team sucked. Asshole coach/daddy was kicked out of the league and, last I heard, had moved to Dallas and was trying to make his kids male models. No joke.

I worked on the side with one of the kids from that team, a kid who wanted to pitch but was told he couldn't. His name is John Danks, and he now pitches for the Chicago White Sox. Good enough to pitch for Ozzie Guillen, but not good enough for 13-year-old league.

That was the first glimpse (at least in Round Rock) of this stupidity. It's even worse over here in Houston, as I found out a couple of weeks back.

Madge (if you read my wife's blog, you know who she is) has a daughter (Madgette) who is five and is playing on one of these softball select teams. Her father is (was) the coach. By her own admission, Madge is a type A+ personality, so I figured she'd be a little hands-on.

She is. But she ain't got nothin' on some of the other crap I saw in 25 minutes out at the ol' ballfield.

First guy I see gets out of his Tahoe with his daughter and shoves her towards the practice field. No kidding; shoves her. I get a look at his shirt, which reads, "Southside softball--THERE IS NO OFFSEASON".

Excuse me, asshole? Your daughter is 6! She wants to be playing Barbies or Playstation or whatever it is six-year-old girls do! She doesn't need to be out running sprints or throwing the medicine ball or shooting up with Vitamin B-12 shots! And don't bullshit me--I know you've at least thought about it.

So, there we are, watching Madgette practice. We're talking about practice, man, practice. Practice. The coaches are working with the players, but the parents (to her credit, not Madge) are yelling at the coaches, yelling at their kids, yelling at other kids, yelling at kids who aren't even playing, yelling at the other team's parents...it was horrid. Virtually everyone needed an enema. And it's this way for soccer, volleyball, swimming, you name it.

Look, I'm as competitive as it gets--I get pissed off when I lose a game of Connect 4. I think kids should learn the value of competition and wanting to win--I also think they should be allowed to have fun and not think sports are a burden because their immature jackhole parents are pushing stuff on them (I'm not saying that to you, Madge, so put the gun down). My God, people, get some damned perspective! Your kids are playing games because they're games! Let them enjoy life!

Earlier, I mentioned Madgette's daddy was the coach of the select team. He quit today after he was attacked by a parent for putting her little darling on the bench for two innings.

According to the rules, every player sits for two innings. Unbelievable.