Put Me In Coach

For as long as I have kids in activities, school and sports I have been involved with other people's kids in activities, school and sports.
I have been a MOMS Club Coordinator, PTA Member and President, Room Parent, Assistant Coach, childcare provider, carpooler, playdater and all around stay-home-mama.

I am in my second season of being "Dug Out Mom" in Abby's softball in California; this follows several seasons of assistant coach back in Connecticut and "helpful parent" going back to T-Ball for both kids.  It's safe to say I have a good idea of what to expect and what is expected of me on the softball field and in the dug out.

I love working with the girls on and off the field.  They are at this great age of not-quite-teenagers/not-admitting-they-still-like-being-little.  They're sweet.  They want to please their coaches and their parents and their team.  They want to have fun and socialize and laugh.  They don't always pay attention and they don't always make the play.  But they're at the age where they usually do.  And even when they don't, they knew what to do but they're still learning the execution.  They need practice.  They need support.  They need positive reinforcement.

As "Dug Out Mom" I consider myself very lucky to be the one that cheers, encourages, supports and guides these girls through their games (& many practices).  I see their faces when they come off of striking out, and when they come off of making the play that ended the inning.  I am able to give them a hug and a high five.  I know their names, I know their strengths and worries.  I have had a favorite here or there, but it usually changes week to week and it's probably not who you would think.  I see who's mom is a little harder and I see who's mom is not there.  And I see myself coming down on my own girl because she has the unfortunate position of being made an example of when I can use that to the team's advantage.  That's how it goes.

More than anything, though, in that dug out, those girls are mine and I treat them as such.  Coach is coaching, I am nurturing, just as I would my own kids.

They will learn to catch, throw, hit and run.  Coach will teach them how to bunt, slide and steal.  Together they will learn plays, and signs and celebrate wins and mourn losses.
In the dug out I will teach them that everyone strikes out, more often than not, in fact.  I will remind them that they are all equals and every position is the most important position.  I give them a wink, a hug, and piece of gum, sunscreen.  I pack extra snacks and waters.  I always have a hair thing and band aids.  I know who their moms & dads are and I know when they actually have to pee or they just want to see their buddy across the field.

It's my job to mediate the inevitable cattiness.
It's my job to pump them up when they're wearing down.
I love my job.  I love being a grown up in their lives that is not their mom, not their coach, not their teacher - but shows them the love, respect and support they are due.  They trust me and I take care of them.

I have saved many emails from many parents thanking me for this role in their daughter's lives.  I wonder if these parents realize how the one line they shoot off to me makes my entire day.  How I even hesitate to share it because it makes me feel so proud I don't want to brag.  A cookie, a smoothie, a smile or thank you.
I don't expect anything because honestly - the girls pay me back in spades for my time.  But those little gestures from their parents pump me up and make me feel worthwhile and useful and happy.  And I thank them back.

So, yesterday when a parent of one of my girls charged into the dugout to yell at me for directing his daughter back to the field I was thrown off my game.  No pun intended.

Our team was warming up.  Moments before the first pitch would be thrown and I saw one of our girls walking towards the parents.  I called her back, she wasn't where she was supposed to be and her reasoning wasn't something I considered important.  We play 10U, so the girls are 9 & 10, sometimes 11.  They can tie their own shoes, put on their own equipment and carry their own gear.  She turned and walked back out to towards the field, but just as she did, the dad came at me.  He asked me what I said to her, I repeated what I said "you can fix your own visor, you need to be on the field with your team".  He then asked me to repeat that.  That's when I realized he was really pissed.  Really getting ready to tear into me and I got nervous.  I repeated myself but before I could finish he hauled off with "You are not her Parent!  I am her Parent!  If she needs help, she can always come to us for help and you cannot tell her she cannot!"
Mind you, she wanted her visor tightened.  She could have asked me.  She could have done it herself.
This is her first year playing, I know this.  We have three girls on our team of 11 that have never played.  Yet, this girl has been to only a handful of practices and missed every pre-season "practice" game.  Her father is full of advice via email for everyone else, yet this was only the second time I had ever met him.
So, as this dad was getting red and waving his finger at me, a lot of things came into my head.  He kept saying he would help her.  I wanted to say "play catch with her!  show her where the field positions are.  let coach teach her by bringing her to practice.  let me show her how to be a part of this group of girls called a team by letting me do what I do.  don't come into my dugout to give her a sandwich in the middle of our 90 minute game.  don't pull her out of the field in the middle of our game, in the middle of an inning, to put her sweater on her."

I have seen this quote before, I can't remember by who and I'm gonna hack it but it's basically "uncoachable kids become unemployable adults."

Anyway.  I didn't say anything.  Thank God, at almost 40 years old that thing people have been telling me I never had finally kicked in - I believe it's called a "filter".  Because the things running through my head didn't come out.
I just let him say his piece.  I even told him he was right.  I said nothing more.  He stood there and we stared at each other.  My legs were weak.  I was afraid my face looked scared.  I wanted to look badass but I don't know if I did.  I was trying not to cry.  I am not a fan of confrontation though I'll handle it if needed.  The girl was standing there the whole time.  I don't know if any of the other girls heard it, but Abby saw it and asked me about it later.

This was yesterday.  I can tell you it ruined my day.  Completely.  The girls lost, that didn't help.  And that particular girl very purposefully did not high five me the entire game.  It was disrespectful, rude and hurtful but I wasn't about to go there.

I wish it wasn't still on my mind.  And I know that so many people who do exactly what I do, coach and definitely the many teachers in my life know this feeling - but it was my first and I was totally rattled.  I felt self conscious and scared.  I was questioning myself and feeling unwelcome.
All the experience and confidence and joy I carried with me dissipated with one bad confrontation.

I have never been spoken to that way.  I have never spoken to another adult that way.  As parents, we make decisions for our children and steer and guide them but we don't attack other parents for doing the same.  And we definitely don't attack other parents who are giving up their time and energy for our kids.

I am sure other parents have disagreed with me, disliked me, whatever - and likely plenty of shit has been said about me over the years.  But this was a first.
And knowing I didn't deserve it makes it so much worse.
If you do something wrong and you get caught you can eat it.  You know you deserved it, you can forgive yourself and move on.
This one, it's sitting with me.

So, I'm writing.
I'm not writing to call this guy out specifically.  I'm writing to make myself feel better.  To spell it out and close the chapter and move on.
So - thanks for reading.