So this weekend was my 8 year old’s first basketball
game. I come from a home where we lived
and breathed basketball. I am happy to
say, that my dad was easily one of the best coaches ever. He was the very model of what a coach should
be for young children just learning the game.
He was all about fundamentals, and kids just having fun. Everyone got to play, and everyone got to
learn. And, he was always positive. Yes, he coached them and guided them to
better basketball skills, but he did it through love and positivity. This is not my son’s coach. Similar to boys that will one day date my
daughters, I am now wondering if any coach will ever be good enough for my son.
I complained that coach did not know what he was doing with
low post players, that he did not sub the kids in and out enough, that his son
played too much, that his son touched the ball too much, that he was letting
his son stay alive and on and on. This
coach could not do right by me. Never
mind that the man was spending three days of his week volunteering his time
with my child while I sat on the bleachers sipping my Slurpie and checking my Android
for very important Facebook updates about Star Wars.
Funny enough, my son only played about half the game, and
touched the ball about 3 times. Yet, he
had a blast. In fact, where it not for
his dad saying how badly he was being mistreated, my son would have thought it
was the greatest day of his life.
Oh no, am I becoming one of those parents? L
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