Naughty Dad

I don't know if this will become a weekly topic but it feels good to rant about it somewhere. I apologize if you could care less.

So Saturday was the kids' first official game and Husband had been practicing with Mr. P (who, by the way BEGS for Husband to play with him... I don't want you to think that we're psycho parents that focus only on a sport) the week prior so he was ready! The team that they played against was ... good. I mean, they're 6 year olds for pity sake. They played like 6 year olds. Our team, on the other hand, played beautifully. Mr. P was moving like a pro, making side shots and pulling cross overs. And Miss F moves like a gazelle and is starting to get into the groove more.

*side note. Husband watches pro soccer with Miss Brasil's husband or on the Spanish channel when a game is on. Pro soccer players celebrate after a goal is made. This can be done in many ways (similar to American football). For example, the rest of the team pretends to shine the goal-makers cleats or the goal-maker acts as if they're rocking a baby. This is just part of the fun. So I've been teaching Mr. P (Miss F is too shy) how to do flips and silly dances for when the opportunity presents itself. He and I think that it's hilarious.

Mr. P made the first goal within seconds of the game beginning. He ran out of the box with his fists raised in the sky as our side cheered. Shortly after this, I ran to the portion of the field that he was on and reminded him of the 'celebration moves' that we had practiced. He gave me a wink and a smile as the game continued. A few minutes later, he scored another goal and then did a cartwheel as he headed for center field. I was whistling and hooting... that kid makes me proud.

And then it happened.

A Naughty Dad from the opposing team screamed "FOUL" on Mr. P. No one had any idea what foul he was referring to so the coaches and he packed together to figure it out. Turns out that this Naughty Dad doesn't want for children to put their elbows up while dribbling the ball (in case you aren't sure, this is a completely legal move to guard your space). So our coach says that he won't call a foul on something that isn't a foul and that he doesn't want to ref any longer. The Naughty Dad does nothing but stare at our coach. A grandpa from the opposing team offered to do it. I think that the cartwheel may have thrown Naughty Dad over the edge.

Then Mr. P scores another goal (this time with no celebration moves) and a large number of the opposing teams parents start shouting, "THIS ISN'T GOOD SPORTSMANSHIP! PULL HIM OUT OF THE GAME!" because they're mad that Mr. P is a good player. Our coach tries to keep the moral of our team up by attempting to ignore the strange adults that are shouting at my son. Then the Naughty Dad's kid pushes Mr. P out of bounds. The grandpa ref doesn't call it and Husband and I don't say anything because we want our kids to learn how to be good sports - sometimes you get shoved and you just get up and play that much harder. Our coach saw it and he decides that it's time to pull out Mr. P. He also slims down our team to three players. Why? To make a point.

So now Miss F is rockin' the field and she scores 2 more goals. Are you with me? We took Mr. P off the field, played our 3 players against their 4, and we still scored 2 more goals. GIRL I WAS A GRINNIN'! We, of course, won 5-3.

*Another side note. The biggest reason that those parents IRK the poo outta me is because of my husband. He was raised in the south (north FL, 1/2 an hour from GA) where football is everything - the entire town shows up to watch the high schoolers play. Husband has always been a big guy (he's 6'5 and about 250 now), so when he was playing football in jr. high, he would get the ball and just plow through the other team. The parents on the opposing teams got together and complained about him publicly. The next year, Husband had a red stripe painted on his helmet and he wasn't allowed to touch the ball.
He never played on a football team again.
It wasn't his fault that he was good! He was a freakin' kid!
And since when do we DISCOURAGE children from excelling? LAME.

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p.s. My MIL, after reading this post, just emailed me this:
"Actually, the red stripe on the helmet happened to him while playing independent football at the rec center and he was only in grade school! All the boys that weighed over like 100 pounds or so were "red lined.""