Not-So-Little-League; an Adult Obsession

thesearekidsToday was not a good day in the land of mom, or local little league for that matter.

For years I have been grateful to the coaches and volunteers who have come together to help kids in our city play sports. I’ve been a hockey mom, a soccer mom, a baseball mom, a football mom, a curling mom, a basketball mom, and a happy mom.

I have also been an annoyed mom.

Annoyed when adults with something to prove take the fun out of the sport for kids. I’ve seen parents yell at their kids, other people’s kids, and act like barbaric fools over kids’ sports.

Most of the time I wear my trademark grin, and waddle away silent, with a happy kiddo. But not today. Today I lost my ever-present-cool, and let someone have it. The only thing I regret is that every single parent who has ever interfered in their child’s sports like a whiny six-year-old didn’t get the full lecture.

Let me lay out some basic rules for you over-enthusiastic-never-made-the-team-I-live-vicariously-through-my-own-child goombas;

1) It’s a game. Play by the rules and honour sportsmanship above all else.

2) It’s a game. Cheer for the great stuff going on at the rink, on the field, on the court. Don’t shame a kid because they aren’t a professional athlete.

3) It’s a game. Your ego means nothing. How the kids come off the field/ice/court/whatever is all that matters. Are they smiling? Do they make everyone on the team feel valued? If you can answer yes to both of these questions nothing else matters.

4) It’s a game. DO NOT use the words, ‘sign’,  ‘draft’, or ‘release’ when you’re talking about kids and sports. If you find yourself using these words and taking yourself seriously, clearly you need to march your chubby-has-been-buns off to an old-timers team and get busy. You are not helping the kids, you are pathetic.

5) It’s a game. Thank your coaches. It’s a huge commitment, and a good coach is a blessing.  Goodness knows that I haven’t a clue about how to be a good coach. I just know that my child has been blessed with some amazing ones.

6) It’s a game. Don’t play politics with minor sports. Kids need this now more than ever. If you want to play politics, start reading and paying attention to our career-quasi-Hollywood politicians already in office. That’s a sport for adults.

7) It’s a game. It’s not all about winning or losing (although winning is indeed pretty darn sweet). It’s about commitment, integrity, and getting better than you were the day before.

8) It’s a game. Have fun with each other. Enjoy the time you get to spend with other parents who want the best for their children. Revert to your childhood, and enjoy being out and active with your community.

After a week of over-the-top bullying by adults trying to run little league like it’s the MLB, I thought that sharing some of my tips might be helpful, inspiring, or even just reassuring to other parents.

It’s about fun, learning and not about making it such an over-the-top-ego-circus that you tick off the momma. ‘Cause when the momma gets angry, ain’t nobody having fun.

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Superbowl of Love

Pink-Sequin-Football-525x350_largeThe superbowl cometh.

We’ll be swathed in colours of our favourite teams, tipsy with beer and digging into game food; wings, chili, and if you’re a dyed in the cloth Canadian – poutine.

Touted as a ‘boys’ event, us gals get into the spirit too. Some of us, because we actually love the game, some because we can’t resist seeing men’s muscular thighs rippling under that ever-so-thin spandex layer, and others because we want to support our man as he cheers on his team. Or, perhaps, if you’re like me, it’s a slick combination of all three reasons.

You know what happens less than two weeks after Superbowl right ladies and gents? Put your fingers down and stop counting.  It’s Valentine’s day. WAIT…keep reading.

Yes, Valentine’s day is the quintessential fake holiday. A “Hallmark” holiday if you will. At least that’s the excuse cupid-agnostics claim year after year. 

So what? Yes-so what? What if it is just a fabricated reason to celebrate? It’s no different from Super Bowl Sunday, the Stanley Cup, or the World Series. It’s a made up celebration. It’s a perfect excuse to indulge, get together with friends, and wind up tangled  in the sheets after some naughty games of your own, wondering where the night went.

I figure, if you survive the grind of day-to-day living and make it to any one of these celebrations you ought to engage with reckless abandon. Celebrate. Smile, laugh, let your heart cheer for whomever you like. After all, we only live once. Laughter, smiling, beer with friends, kissing and  passionate, steamy love-making is the fuel that carries us through the mire.

My advice to all of the VD cynics out there – engage in VD as the Superbowl of the Sex, The Stanley Cup of  Sweet Lovin’s, or the World Series of Wowing your man.

You don’t have to break the bank, lay down a pay cheque, or sprinkle the sheets with diamonds. Although, if you do decide to go all out with the precious gems, I’m willing to let you come and sprinkle my sheets. With gems – of course.

Be silly. Embrace the spirit of the day. Laugh. Bring a friend chocolates, wine and a smile that will warm their sweet little mid-February heart, (or drawers, whatever floats your boat).

February 14th is not a day to ‘prove’ your love, it is a day to indulge, and enjoy.