Saturday, July 20, 2013

Something Witty Goes Here

I was going to write a post about my depressingly dysfunctional relationship with my mother but I changed my mind. I don't think I'm capable of putting a humorous spin on it, it's too depressing.

So, what to write, what to write....?

Oh, this is going to be good.

*finger tapping*

*thoughtful looks*

*several false starts*


This isn't going to win the pulitzer or anything, but I'm trying to flex a muscle here, folks, bear with me!

Earlier this spring I suffered a bout of temporary insanity and volunteered to be the team manager of my daughter's soccer team.

I know, I should just check myself into an institution for the soft minded.

Mr. Sprite was volunteering as Head Coach and I was having visions of famous super hero duos and parent of the year awards and undying gratitude from players and parents alike. Ha! Fat chance.

First off, this was an under eighteen girls team. Twenty four girls with decision making power and zero regard for anyone but themselves. Secondly, parents are idiots. Why do the vast majority of us lose all ability to manage ourselves when there is a team manager involved? And finally, I don't think I'm much of a team player.

Let's begin with my last point, shall we? I originally offered to do it temporarily, until some other, more experienced and organized mother stepped in to take charge. I created an email list, I drafted and sent emails covering the various points that needed covering, including the need for a team manager.

My call to arms went unanswered. I rallied and decided to man the post myself.  My husband went to a meeting of the minds and returned to tell me that I now had two Co-team managers.

Despite having told him that I would do it, he assumed he was doing me a favour. He just didn't understand that this was my calling and I was prepared to answer it with gusto! I had created an email group in Gmail! Were my dedication and skill not apparent? Apparently not. But I am nothing if not accommodating and so I accepted my new colleagues with open arms.

It seems I do not play will with others.

It has come to my attention that I am woefully intolerant of incoherent text messages and emails lacking punctuation and grammar. I am also unwilling to be subjected to aggressive ignorance. But really, my expectations are exceedingly high.

When it dawned on me that, while two ladies that were foisted upon me were no doubt lovely, I was not on the same page as them. And rather than exert my dominance, I attempted to resign my position and leave the managing to them. They begged me to stay. The position was such that three ladies would serve far better than one. I caved. Not one for confrontation, am I.

Three was definitely a crowd.

Parents! A word of advice? If you have enrolled your child in an extra curricular activity, please read any and all, in its entirety,communications sent to you regarding that extra curricular activity. To ask for contact numbers that were sent to you three times makes you look like an idiot. It is a pity that LMGTFY is not an acceptable response to a query regarding the name and locations of hotels sent to you two weeks ago for the tournament this weekend. On Thursday. And finally, please don't make me send a repo man to your home because you still have not paid your dues. I feel qualified to offer such advice because I have been guilty of all of these as a parent and now know the special kind of torture it is as a team manager.

Finally, Ladies. You will one day soon venture out on your own. You are a short step from adulthood. It shouldn't be too much to ask for you to arrange your own transportation. It isn't difficult to notify your coaches if you plan to be absent. Your jersey is not too tight and yours is. Yes, your Pro-Wrap is fine, even though it doesn't match. Do we really need to wear two different coloured socks? This is soccer, not Americas Next Top Model.

Gah! I'm sure I have new grey hair and I expect compensation for my troubles and I have a new found respect for those who volunteer their time to support our kids and I believe they all need their heads read.

Where do I sign up for next year?


  1. I have two words for you: Dumb and Ass.

    Okay ... so you know me better than that and I am incapable of answering ANYTHING with a paltry two words ... but what did you expect, anyway?

    Your problem is not that you don't play well with others ... you play just fine. You just don't do well with stupid, apathetic nimrods ... and let's face it - what better place to find those than a teen sports team?

    You'll survive ... and you'll have moments of brilliance and they'll likely con you into it again.

    ...then we can enjoy a periodic rant or five and all will be right in the world.