This is the man who has been badly beaten as a result of a now-routine occupational hazard: he referees little girl’s soccer games. All over the country the epidemic of rage-filled, abusive and increasingly violent PARENTS are turning what was once a fun and valuable learning experience into a laboratory for disgraceful behavior and being the worst possible example to your children.
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21 replies on “The Most Dangerous Job in the World?”
Youth sports is about learning how to play with others, gain muscle coordination, learn how to win and loose, and develop social skills.
That’s it. Daddy and mommy may enjoy it, but it is for the kids.
I umpired little league in a small central Texas town for several years. Actually paid $15 per game. The kids were heaven the parents were hell. I had a good way of controlling the loudmouths. I’d call timeout, walk out the gate toward the offender in the stands, while removing the ump gear. I’d hand the gear to the mouth, tell him (usually a him) you obviously know more about the game than I do, go finish the game. Only had one taker, and I’ll be damned if he didn’t do a good job! The next season he was a regular ump!
For another great Ricky Schroeder child acting job – check out The Earthling. Was also one of Bill Holden’s last. The Earthling – Wikipedia
Silver Spoons is probably what inspired the wall of 6 TVs in my basement, each with its own gaming console and streaming capability. The streaming is particularly excellent during college football season and the NCAA tournament
We made a point to put Little Bob into a Babe Ruth and not a Traveling little league team. Even as young as he is I hear of parents in the competitive leagues already becoming psycho. Thankfully we have a great coach too.
My sister’s youngest boy went from little league to high school all way to collegiate ball at USF. About 13 years of him having to bear “Chirpy Mom” from the stands. Kid was a catcher and a good one. Drafted by the Pirates while at USF, he decided after all those years of ball, he’d had it. 13 years of hearing his mom, on a passed ball in the field, or a bad strike call, mom yelling “It’s OK honey, you’ll get it next time!” Always in the high octaves and always at volume….11. Ugh, even I was so embarrassed that I’d have to leave when she’d start up…
One day, he gave it all up, focused on his studies, found he had a real liking for numbers, and became an accountant. Successful and a long term future, unlike the MLB life of AA or if you’re lucky AND good, AAA ball. And a short window to boot.
He made the right call. My sister was, of course, beside herself…..BB, she was a real psycho.
Welcome back from your hiatus.
Oh, and on a similar note to this episode: There is a nationwide shortage of officials for all sports in HS and Lower.
Not a coincidence.
When I was 15 (geez, that’s a long time ago) I was on a travel baseball team coached by Sgt Paulie, one of our local cops. Paulie looked a lot like Det Sipowicz from NYPD Blue with a bit James Gandolfini thrown in. During one, when I was playing catcher, the umpire’s strike zone got pretty inconsistent. Norman did try hard, but he wasn’t very good at it.
Paulie started to get on him. During the warm up for the next inning Paulie came out to talk. And things escalated. Norman tossed him, but when he did he clipped Paulie’s chin a little and they started grabbing and shoving each other. With little Ron between them. The only thing I could see was Paulie’s gun on his hip so I pretended it was football season and pushed as hard as I could and shouted his name.
Seeing me try to get him in a bear hug when my arms couldn’t reach around him, he started laughing and it broke the tension. He then did the most amazing thing. He called our team to home plate. Pulled the other team in as well. Then he apologized to Norman and to all the kids for being such a jerk (he used a different word that NY Italians all know). Then he reached his hand out for Norman to shake, which of course he did.
Then he said he was going to sit in his car and watch the rest of the game.
It is one of the only games about which I remember any details. Couldn’t tell you the score or who won. Just that I saw a man embarrass himself and then own it and give a bunch a kids a couple of important lessons.
Now THAT, is a story for all of us to remember. I know I will. We need to remember Sgt. Pauli’s actions that day, and channel both he and teeny Ron should the occasion arise.
Guessing game. As an Italian from the left coast, I was looking for a little clarity for NY Italian’s term for Jerk.
A: 4 letter nickname for Richard? Same but also followed by the word head?
B: Rooster sucker?
C: Used feminine hygiene flexible plastic container?
D: Excrement head?
E: Dumb donkey?
Just curious.
So, the word I use was always translated to me as letter E.
I do not know how to spell it as it is almost assuredly NY Italian slang and not an actual Italian word.
I would spell it (somewhat phonetically) as umbigatz, which was different from umbriacc (drunk)
But it actually could be closer to umbigots, which if stugots is “testicles” could really mean “without testicles” or basically calling a guy out as having no balls or manliness.
I just remember it was one that was always followed by fists swinging, so don’t use it often.
Whoa RSAE! THAT was my pinnacle Rumsfeld moment, and I thank you!
When you’re a kid it’s all about having fun. In having fun you also learn. Manners, good sportsmanship, how to lose, more importantly – how to win. In my younger years went to a few little league games, heard coaches and parents yelling at kids, decided this wasn’t for me. Even at that age I had the mouth that would get the snot beaten out of me, and was stubborn enough that I’d never admit to being wrong.
Bill, “The Champ” 1931, Wallace Berry and Jackie Cooper. Both films are very good.
When my nephew was around 9 years old he started playing on a Little League team. The coach would swear and yell at the kids, make promises of ice cream or other goodies he never kept and all the kids were miserable.
My nephew wanted to quit. I didn’t blame him, he was having no fun at all. His parents wouldn’t let him because they insisted that he begged to play Little League and committed for a season so he had to live up to his commitment. I agreed with this but watched my nephew play one season of Little League ball and be completely miserable. Sometimes lessons are hard to learn. This was one of those times.
After Little League had finished for the year it was time to reassess the situation. My nephew is an only child so participation in social activities is an important aspect of his development.
We had a family meeting which included me. This is usually the case, my sister and I generally use each other as a “reality check” and because one of us might have a perspective the other is lacking.
I had seen a van parked in various places along the road that had a big, well done ad for Christian Karate painted on it. So I suggested my nephew consider Karate as his participation sport.
He was amenable to this idea, as were his parents. So I “interviewed” the owner and was very much pleased with the results. My nephew began his Karate instruction with the proviso that I take him there and that if it turned out to be the shit show Little League was that I would intervene. He said he was willing to try it but not commit to it. He wanted to be able to quit. He had learned something from Little League but he had confidence in me that I would protect him. And I most certainly would not disappoint him if the need arose.
I would dutifully take him to Karate every week, twice a week. I’d sit outside the instruction room which had a big picture window. They had a Keurig so I’d buy a cup of coffee and watch. I looked forward to this every week. Never once did I see anything I needed to get off my chair for.
He worked hard, the training was strenuous and sometimes unavoidably painful. He stuck with it through sheer determination and guts but he was treated very well by everyone. It was a great experience for both of us. After the first year he told me I didn’t need to come anymore if I didn’t want to. I still did, it was well worth my time.
This turned out to be one of the best moves of his young life. He gained a lot of self confidence, coordination, many friends and eventually his 1st degree Black Belt. The owner operator was an ordained minister and there was zero Eastern Mysticism involved. Had there been, this dojo would not have been an option. He got good, sound Christian life instruction along with the Karate training and competition.
To my knowledge he’s never had to use his training anywhere but on a dojo mat. If he had, I’d have heard about it. It wasn’t that he needed to learn to fight, though that was certainly a plus. It was that he needed something to offset the terrible experience of Little League.
Scott may be correct that the sort of thing in this video was underreported in the past and we hear about that stuff much more readily now. What’s different is that in the past you put your kid in something like Little League for the sake of the kid, not to vicariously live out your own pathetic sporting ambitions.
I truly hope that Scott’s take on the generational dynamic of this phenomenon is correct, but in my life’s experience what it seems most like I am seeing is a rapid descent into feudal tribalism on a societal level!
Steve; If we want the best for our kids then we should stop assisting the government in conditioning them, often enthusiastically.
My brother-in-law has been banned (by his wife and children) from attending or coaching any grandkids’ sports events. He rants and raves nonstop, apparently without the ability to control himself. He was thrown out of every game he attended, and now has to sit in the car and watch from there if he goes at all. He let himself go so long, never curbing his anger at the games, and it’s affected his health. He is generally disrespected for being a jerk by other families. It’s very sad.
I think it’s always been hard for people to confront bad, boorish behavior. It’s probably part of our inborn defense mechanisms to avoid possible harm. The other person may not back down, and then things can escalate. But I am so grateful that not everyone is too scared to say something! If we would stand up, we’d all be better for it. Just silently expecting and wishing for people to behave well in polite society doesn’t work. It does take someone being willing to confront, and the rest of us to back them up as well.
We are now in the second generation of everyone gets trophy situation.
As a child, I played sandlot ball. When we heard about Little League, with uniforms and all, we went to try out. However, when we discovered that adults would be involved, we returned to our sandlot. As an adult, I had to chase parents off the field when they began to act obnoxiously. Sadly, sandlots are off limits in an age of unfettered lawsuits. Who would want to risk the liability of children playing on their unused real estate?
I think Scott touched on a key point which is …
“Don’t put up with this nonsense!”
I’ll amend that a bit to …
“Don’t put up with this nonsense anywhere from anyone!”
It’s generally my observation that if you meet aggression with aggression the aggressor will back down. Not always so you need to be prepared to back yourself up if not, but generally. Like 95% of the time or thereabouts.
This inappropriate aggressive behavior is due to a common human feedback loop. The aggressor gets aggressive and no one stands up to him. He gets what he wants because there’s no one willing to tell him “NO!” and back it up with their own aggressive response. (Note: The word “response” is key in that last sentence.)
There was a time, before the cocoa sipping estrogen dripping pajama clad soy boys took over, when if you stepped out of line a real man would vigorously point out the error of your ways. By whatever means was necessary to accomplish the attitude adjustment that you sorely and clearly need.
Now if you raise your hand to a man clearly in need of a personality correction you go to jail. In that bygone era I just mentioned if you got arrested (which was unlikely) the judge would listen to both sides and if the aggressor deserved what he got, that would be the end of it. That situation no longer obtains.
Which means that as a society we’ve done this to ourselves. Not me, I haven’t done this but I’m an exception that proves the rule. Society has dulled and numbed the responses that keep society functioning fairly and smoothly. Society has made impulse control a matter of the law and courts. Law and courts are poor tools for impulse control.
By the time it gets to a judge it’s too late to stop behavior that should never have occurred in the first place. At that point punishment becomes a financial and moral burden on society. Which could have been avoided if human interaction were simply allowed to take its proper course.
Because people have been trained not to respond to aggression aggressively the lessons that would have been learned early by those who use aggression for manipulation are never absorbed. Which creates a positive feedback loop and puts us in the situation we find ourselves in today.
Scott is right, this sort of aggressive manipulation was very likely previously under-reported. That doesn’t change a thing about what I just said.
When my youngest brother was playing youth soccer, my Dad was one of those parents who tried to give him coaching during the game. He would run up and down the sidelines as the game moved from one end of the field to the other. The official referee eventually gave him a flag and called him a sideline ref. This was the 70’s and early 80’s, so we never saw any fights about this, even from the other teams. Sometimes a parent from the other team took the other side of the field. Simpler times.
To my eternal shame and embarrassment, I, as a parent, got a yellow card at a championship lacrosse game for 16-year-olds. I could set up the scene and get most of you to agree with my abusive taunt to the referee, but defending and justifying myself wouldn’t be right. As far as I know, my kids aren’t behaving badly as athletes, and didn’t before or after.
It wouldn’t have occurred to me to punch the guy, though.