Dad's House » parenting

Little League Parents Suck

dadshouse — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 11:25:41 +0000

Ah, the Little League parent. You know the type. They yell for their kid to win at all costs. They scream at the coach when things aren’t going right. And they pepper the referee or umpire at every bad call.

In short, they are assholes.

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing an entire stadium of soccer parents turn into Little League parents. (Okay, I’m generalizing. Not everyone in the stadium got out of control. In fact, we weren’t all that bad. But for a bunch of parents who usually keep our mouths shut, we had our moments.)

My teen daughter’s soccer team was in a playoff match. The other team had a few players who could keep pace with our athletes (we’re quick, and we were nationally ranked for a time, and we kicked butt in league play. Yeah, I just said “we” even though it’s a girls team and I’m a lowly parent. Woo-hoo!)

But several of the other team’s players were too slow. In order to compete, they threw elbows.

At first, we didn’t say a thing. But when one girl threw an elbow a third time, this one at my daughter’s neck, I spoke up. “Hey, watch the elbows!”

There were chuckles in the stands. As the game progressed, though, more and more elbows were thrown. Other players were getting hurt. One girl went down on the turf, and another left with a bloody nose.

“Hey ref,” one mom said. “A bloody nose comes from elbows being thrown.”

The ref ignored us. As more and more dirty plays went down on the pitch, we became more and more vocal. We simply wanted the ref to stop any dangerous play.

In the second half, the ref called things more fairly, and started calling penalties on the dangerous play. The other team’s parents started complaining.

“Booooooooooo,” one whole section said.

After the game, my daughter gave me the skinny. “The players on the other team kept saying, ‘can’t you get your parents to shut up? They’re so annoying!’” To which my daughter said, “can’t you get your teammates to stop throwing elbows? They’re so annoying!”

I asked her about the ref. Didn’t he hear us? At some point, the ref needs to call infractions in order to protect the players on the pitch.

“He probably heard you guys,” my daughter said. “But he didn’t speak English.”

Doh!

Or should I say, Ay Carumba!

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Talking to My Daughter About Soccer

dadshouse — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 11:34:23 +0000

I have a great relationship with my teen daughter. When she was eleven and entering sixth grade, I sat her down and talked to her about the ins and outs of sex. We’ve talked about her relationships, and my relationships, and relationships on Grey’s Anatomy. I feel like we can talk about anything.

Except soccer.

She’s been playing soccer since she was five. I played one asthma-filled season as a youth, and never really learned the game’s strategies until I was an Italian Serie-A loving adult. (Tivo rocks.)

So if I ever said “Italy should play great in this year’s World Cup,” she’d roll her eyes.

And if I dared to criticize her, “I was surprised you lost that ball to the girl in front of your own goal. You had her beat.” She’d make an angry face and tell me to shut up.

But something has changed of late. My daughter is playing her varsity high school season, and she’s suddenly fine with me chatting with her about the beautiful game. More than that, she lets me analyze her play in father-daughter post-game recaps. She seems to even value my opinion. WTF?

“You seemed a little slow for the first fifteen minutes of the game,” I’d say. “But then you picked it up with that quick run up the middle, when you stopped number eleven.”

“She was a pain,” my daughter would say.

“You beat her good.”

She’d nod her head, remembering the game with me.

I don’t know if she likes the extra set of eyes helping her improve her game tactics. Or if she’s now comfortable and confident enough with her own play, she can stand to hear it described by someone else.

Or maybe she just likes that her dad is there watching.

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Soccer, Friends, and Wine
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Father and Teenage Daughter Go For a Run
Will Ref For Gas, a Dad’s House nationally syndicated post
My Sexy Daughter

House Full of Teens and a Funny Joke

dadshouse — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 11:20:39 +0000

My daughter is almost 18, and like any teenager she takes off for long stretches to hang out with her friends. For instance, the other day after soccer practice, she ran into some of her friends at Jamba Juice, and on the spur of the moment they all drove to the Apple store to buy an iPod cable. (Party on, Silicon Valley style! Haha)

I used to have to deal with missed curfews and late-night texts asking for the Dominos Pizza phone number, but these days those problems are gone.

My teen daughter and her friends are hanging out at my house.

They play epic games of Risk. They eat epic amounts of popcorn. (Healthy diets for teen athletes include that food, right?) They watch an epic number of TV shows off their iPod on my TV. (That Apple cable rocks.) They stay up late watching the Olympics.

My house is suddenly the cool place to hang out. Who knows why? Of course, I’m doing nothing to blow it.

The other night I was making popcorn on the stove. I have one of those Whirly Crank Handle things. I swear, it’s better tasting (and healthier) than microwave.

Sometimes my stove doesn’t light, and so I used a match to get it going. I’m whirlying away when two of my daughter’s friends came in for drinks.

“Is something burning?” the teen boy asked.
“I’m making popcorn,” I said. “But it’s not burning.”
“No, something’s burning. I smell burnt sulfur.”

Remember the movie, About Schmidt? If so, you’ll recognize this.

“You mean, like someone lit a match?” I asked.
“Yeah, exactly!” he said.
“I just used the bathroom.”

Oops. Awkward moment. Their eyes went wide in shock, they couldn’t believe I’d actually said that. Here I was, an old man sharing too much info about my sphincter.

But then I let out a hearty laugh, and they realized I was joking them big time. They laughed with me, then made a bee-line back to the TV room.

Next time I have custody, I’ll find out if my cool parent points are still at epic enough levels for the kids to hang at Dad’s house.

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How do Parents Keep in Shape When Kids Play Sports?

dadshouse — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 11:33:08 +0000

I’m a hot dad. (Hey, I was voted into the club, and it’s a lifetime membership.)

I have a teen daughter and son.

I spend a lot of time watching my kids play sports.

When am I supposed to find time to work out?

Head over to the Hot Dads Blog and get the skinny on:

Out of Shape Dad Watching His Teens

(If that pre-programmed link doesn’t work, head straight to Hot Dads blog.)

When you’re done, you can come back and watch my teens do yet another sporting event with me. Or don’t, and simply wait for me to shake an espresso coffee martini. (Is there any wonder why I’m out of shape? Ha.)

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Grey’s Anatomy – Okay For Teens?

dadshouse — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 11:33:49 +0000

Ah, Grey’s Anatomy. That show women love so much.

My ex-wife watches it.

My female friends watch it.

My teen daughter’s girl friends watch it.

And my daughter watches it, too.

So when I finally saw Grey’s Anatomy for the very first time, I was shocked at how much casual sex and hooking up went on. Is this what teens are watching?

Head over to the Hot Dads Blog and see if:

Grey’s Anatomy – Okay for Teens?

When you come back, I’ll give you a key to my place. (You’ll get that reference after you read the post.)

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Parenting – Competitive or Cooperative?

dadshouse — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 11:30:42 +0000

Should parents compete with each other to ensure the best for their own kids?

Or work together to make a great community for all children?

I’ve been a parent in Silicon Valley for nearly 18 years, and it’s shocking to me how competitive some parents are.

Today, Dad’s House takes a look at competitve and cooperative parenting styles. Race on over to the Silicon Valley Moms Blog… or stroll hand in hand… and read about

Parenting – Competitive or Cooperative?

(If that pre-programmed link doesn’t work, go straight to Dad’s House posts at SV Moms)

Leave a comment, then give your neighbor a high five. Or get them to give you one. Whatever feels right.

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Where Are My Teen Kids?

dadshouse — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 11:30:55 +0000

As a divorced dad, my kids are with me half of each week, plus every-other weekend.

This past weekend I had custody of them.

And I barely saw them.

Where did my teen kids go?

Head over to the Hot Dads Blog and enjoy some alone time as one parent asks:

Where Are My Teen Kids?

(If that preprogrammed link doesn’t work, head straight to Hot Dads Blog.)

Maybe then you’ll understand why I blog cocktail recipes. Anyone for a mai tai, margarita, manhattan, or gin martini?

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