On Being a PBB

Yesterday, I was a PBB, a Parent Behaving Badly. I'm not proud of it, and having behaved so poorly haunted me all day, tormented me as I tried to fall asleep last night. I finally just had to tell myself I was never, ever going to behave like that again, no matter how frustrated I became. This is what being a parent of a basketball player has come to, and if it means I can't attend the games, I guess I'll just have to stay home and get the low-down from the kids afterwards.

I played basketball from fourth grade through high school. I was pretty good. For the last few years, I've coached a 4th/5th grade boys team. I know the game fairly well. When I see really bad reffing, I get so frustrated and sometimes say things I shouldn't say. That's what happened yesterday. At one point, while the offending ref was looking right at me, I mouthed, "You suck." He knew exactly what I said and smiled. Not too long after that, another parent sitting in another part of the bleachers yelled the same thing to the same ref. This ref turned and told the parent to get out of the gym, and at that point, personnel from the event showed up to escort the father out. I so wanted to jump up and yell at the ref the father was right, and if I'd had any guts I would have.

While I understand reffing isn't easy, it really doesn't seem all that difficult to make decent calls. Maybe I should take the test and get my reffing patch. Then I can ref and see just what it's like from the other side. Having that perspective might be just what I need to be able to sit in the bleachers and not go ballistic on the refs.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Profoundly Sad Today and I Don't Know Why

Marigolds

Night Sky