The Night I Became That Parent

Our 3 boys are playing basketball and are at various stages- our youngest is at the 'everything is cute' stage and where the game resembles more of a blend of rugby and football then it does basketball.  Our middle son is at the 'almost but not yet' stage where you see lots of stuff that resembles basketball, but there's still no stealing, no keeping score, and still lots of traveling.  Our oldest is at the 'it's on' stage complete with referees, scoreboards, fouls, free throws and a wide discrepancy in the talent of the teams competing.

Needless to say, it's been a rough year for our son's team.  They've played hard and had fun but they haven't won a game yet.  And so that's led me (along with other parents) to begin to assist the referees with officiating.

For me, it started subtle enough.  I'd mutter something like 'traveling' or 'double-dribble' every time I felt the ref missed a call.  My wife would look at me.

Then it proceeded to 'call and response' where I would begin an unofficial banter with parents of the other team.  They'd cry over a missed call and I'd smile.  They'd smile over a missed call and I'd talk loudly.  That kind of thing.  My wife would elbow me.

Finally- and I am really not proud of this- it became more vocal and audible towards the referee.  Things like "call it fair", "you have to call it both ways", and "c'mon man!" would come out of my mouth, all said very vocally.  Some of our team's parents would nod in agreement, silently 'amening' my comments.   My wife threatened to sit on the other side of me and mentioned something along the lines of my behavior not being included in our vows of 'til death do us part'.

And then one night- after some previously mentioned behavior- the ref rolled his eyes.  And I knew I had become that parent.  The one where some parenting expert or childhood behavioral expert or youth sporting expert is probably blogging about somewhere as what not to do.

And so I stopped.

I stopped criticizing the officials.  I cheered for our team.  I encouraged our son to play good defense, set a pick for the ball, and move to get open.  I cheered for the other team too, because they were making some nice plays (give and gos, backdoor cuts, that kind of thing).  But I stopped being that parent.  And hopefully won't relapse.

But if I'm tempted, my wife's left elbow will redirect me!