|Wednesday, Apr. 03, 2002 || Soccer Rant|
Can I just say....
Our little Parker is four now, just the right age for the adorable sport of Pee Wee Soccer. So, Mommy traipsed on down to the city parks and recreation board and signed him up, anticipating adorable, chubby-legged preschoolers running down the field in a mini blob, chasing a black and white ball and trying to get it in a preschool-sized net.
Enter the Coach From Hell (hereafter referred to as CFH). Yes, that's right ladies and gentlemen, we get stuck with one of those "volunteer" parent coaches who has never coached a day in her life. Her first move as coach is to decide that since she has a daughter and the team color is light blue, everyone should wear white shorts.
We have done this for 3 season with our older son, and we have always wore black. Guess what Mommy went out and bought as soon as Parker was signed up? Black. Guess what I had to go back out and buy? White. And would they have white in boy's shorts? Oh no, of course not.
Mommy told CFH that we were unavailable for Wednesday PM practices. "No problem, several other parents can't come then either. It will probably be on Mondays," CFH assured me.
Rather than just schedule the practices then and there, CFH decides to call the Thursday before Easter and announce a Saturday practice. Most of you know my hubby is a pastor. So, the Saturday before Easter is quite busy for us. I told CFH that I wasn't sure we could make it. "My husband is a pastor and it is a very busy weekend for us with Easter and all." No comment. I could almost see the "Does not compute. Does not compute," flashing across her forehead.
The next day, phone message: too many folks can't come; no Saturday practice. Still no scheduled weekly pracitice.
Fast forward to last night. Brrrring. Yup, its CFH. Practice on Wednesday night.
"I thought we weren't going to have Wed. night practices."
I was wrong. I am getting just a bit frustrated by now. I mean, this is supposed to be fun! There is something about this woman that is making me very annoyed. Some thing in the way she speaks. Something in the attitude. Can't quite put my finger on it, but I am not happy with how this is all playing out.
At some point in time over the course of several phone conversations, she asked what size shirt I ordered for Parker. "Medium." "Hmmm," she says, "they gave me one (or two, I can't remember now) youth large(s)." I told her that I ordered a medium, knowing that would be on the big side, but the small looked too tiny.
But, I will get back to that later. After last night's call, I express my concerns to my darling spouse and tell him that I think we should look into switching teams. Actually, now that I think about it, I told CFH that if the practices were to be on Wednesdays to let us know, as it may be best for us to switch teams. He acts like it is no big deal, but later tells me that he called the P&R coordinator and expressed our dilemma. He told Rob that he could try to get Parker on another team that met at a different time, but that some teams didn't even practice, blah, blah, blah.
The spouse decides to borrow a friend's car so that he can take Parker to practice tonight while I take our other two to their AWANA meeting. We are to then meet at the church building so that I can take Parker home while hubby teaches Bible study.
So, I try to resign myself to the fact that we are just going to have to deal with this woman.
Rob is supposed to leave the fields at 6:15 PM so he can be at the church around 6:30. I get back there at 6:45. No Rob. 6:50. 6:55. Finally, Rob and Parker come in. I ask how it went. He says he needs to concentrate on Bible Study right now, and he just can't allow himself to think about what a bad coach she is.
And if we had got the ball rolling to put him on another team.....
Well, I go out to the car to get Parker's booster seat and grab the soccer schedule and his uniform shirt.
Guess what size it is?
Yup, you guessed it. Youth Large.
Mommy is pretty peeved by now. If Rob was the coach, I know that if a wrong size was given, he would have tried to get a different one, and given it to our kid in the meantime. When I got home, I call CFH and ask if she knows who I can get a hold of about getting a different shirt. She is basically no help, offers none, mumbles that I could call the P&R coordinator. I get the feeling this woman is not happy with me, but hey, the feeling is mutual. She has done ABSOLUTELY nothing to make this fun or easy.
I tell her how stinkin' big the shirt is (not in those words) - it goes down to his knees and the short sleeves are almost full length. It would fit my 8-year-old. "Oh, my daughter's is down to her knees too."
"Oh, and what size is hers?"
It seems I remember her saying back in our previous conversation that she had ordered that size too. But who got the way too large shirt? Yup, Parker.
So, I left a message with the coordinator; hopefully he calls back tomorrow and we can get Parker a smaller shirt. After all, we paid for it. We should get what we ordered.
I am beginning to think, why would anyone pay $48 for these kinds of hassles? I am so sick and tired of dealing with this woman! I know that probably doesn't sound like a very Christian attitude, but why should my kid be the one stuck with the mistake? Her kid gets to play for free even, because she is the STINKIN' coach!!
Just a reminder - Friday, Aug. 10, 2007
Rockin' Girl Blogger - Wednesday, Jul. 18, 2007
A good end - Friday, Jun. 01, 2007
Moving on? Yes and no. - Monday, May. 07, 2007