‘I’m a soccer parent!’

I had two games this weekend at a recreational soccer tournament. I was pretty excited because I got assessed for the first time, and that was cool. Overall, the assessment was good, but there are some things I could work on.

The first game was a semi-final U10, and mostly the game went well. But there was one controversial goal. The ball bounced off the crossbar of the goal, right into the goal about a foot, then bounced out. Since it crossed the line — I saw it clearly — we called it. The coach went nuts. I don’t know why he and his team seemed to think it wasn’t a goal, but they never shut up about it. Even as they were leaving the field, they were still screaming “it wasn’t a goal!” Whatever.

The second game was the U10 championship game, with the winning team of the last game playing. Both teams were from rural areas of my state, which means there were some redneck and outright white trash parents.

The team whose side I was on had a whole row of enormous moms sitting in camp chairs smoking and screaming at their kids. I don’t normally criticize fat people, but it was funny to that they encouraged their kids to play sports while you know they never lifted a finger to exercise themselves. But I digress.

I heard one redneck dude complaining that the winning team was “obviously a select team and not a rec team.” Well, obviously, since they were beating the tar out of his kid’s team. I wanted to tell him that I’ve seen a lot of select teams play, and they’re much better than these kids.

But the best thing I overheard was this: One parent (of the fat camp-chair group) asked another if her daughter was playing softball this summer. “Nooooo! I’m not a softball parent!” She clarified: “I’m not a basketball parent, I’m not a football parent, I’m a soccer parent!”

Wow, mom. Way to make it all about you. I wonder what her kid thinks about this. Does she have a choice in what sport she plays? Apparently, not, because that would mess with mom’s precious image.


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