Perhaps these guys would be worth the money. Is that cowboy Leonardo DiCaprio?Last year, I swore I wouldn't sign the kids up anymore for sports. And this year, when Max started asking, I did the responsible thing, and signed them up. I figured we'd try it out on different teams this year. And it would be good for activity when the midwest arctic blows in. So, I completely lost my mind and my bank account and signed them up with the YMCA.
Since we're not YMCA members, it was double the price, and since it was the DAY after - just one measley day after the deadline for sign up- we got robbed. $160 for two six-year-olds to play ten games of basketball. Thank God we already bought their reversible jerseys and they're letting us re-use them.This better be good.
At the Y's defense, when I groaned at the price, they reminded me that I could coach and my kids cost would be cut in half.
"No thanks, I don't really like kids." Was all I could say while I wrote the check. The truth is, I love coaching kids. To teach them what seems impossible and then see the look in their eyes when they accomplish it. It's an overwhelming sensation. I've coached before. I was good at it. It's dealing with the parents that drove me to the brinks of coaching extinction.
So, I refuse to coach, and would rather pay double the price of extortion. Because really, even just $40 per kid is too much for what you get back. Sure, they have a nice little code they read every game - blah blah blah, teamwork, good attitude, yada yada.Nice attitude, and no skillz? Puhlease.
The practices they have make me hurt. The poor coaches can't get the boys to stop making farting sounds with their armpits, and the girls talking about their latest whatever. And the games are like herding cats, except you can't hid the kids with your car like you can with cats. Not as legally, anyway. So there's that.
Today I watched in horror. It was just awful. Sucky suckness. Although MY children are not the best, they are pretty good. And they seem to work on what we tell them to before the game. I'm sure the coaches appreciate our pre-game coaching. I try so hard not to coach during the game. But SOMEONE'S gotta do it. And I only scream at My kid.
OH MY GAWD - I am that very parent! Lord strike me now. No, I'm not the awful parents who suck out all your practice time wondering why Johnny doesn't get to play as much. And we don't even scream profanities or anything. Just stuff like "ATTA GIRL LUCY! YOU ARE SO AWESOME!" Really loud like.
Even my perfect children get sucked into the vortex of the non-sense. This week, I made Max sit down and compose a letter of apology to his coach for not paying attention in practice.
The whole stupid thing is, there shouldn't even be this pressure to put kids in sports this early. Ricardo and I both didn't even start thinking about begging our parents to be on a sports team until we were in the fourth grade. It's so much to ask of them: Rebounding, double-dribble, boundaries, back court, guard the kid, but don't bear hug him please, you have to dribble when you walk, if you have the shot take it, but don't be a ball hog...It's too much. So much in fact that no one else really tells them that WHILE THEY'RE PLAYING anyways. So, what was it that I paid for again?
AAACK! No more formal sports teams until they are in fourth grade. That's it. It's best for the kids, me, my relationship with Ricardo, and the well-being of all YMCA directors to just say no to 6-year-old ballers.
And that's how I roll.
