Keeping off season in house will allow that more. Like I said, The AD/principal can set that policy. With AAU/Jr Olympic sports, not so much.
There are more safeguards at the high school level. The AD/principal/school board can set parameters. The school does have an implied concern for the welfare of the student. There are literally NO protections outside of school.
I wanted to make up a bumper sticker that said
My honor Student is a Black Belt and beat the shit out of your asshole kid.
Mrs. nB said not on any vehicle she's riding in.
There is a way to control it. Get rid of the antiquated OHSAA regulations that limit off season coaching. Basketball coaches are limited to 10 days ALL SUMMER. No contact in spring. This vacuum is filled now by the AAU.
The FANTASY of a college scholarship is what drives this travel sports crap.
back to Daughter #1...well #30 (All my kids wore 30 to emulate her). She was one of the best basketball players I ever saw. 5'10". Could grab the rim. owned every school record single game/season/career when she graduated. Shot 50% for her career from 3 pt range. played for a small (now defunct all girls school) and GOT A DIV II SCHOLARSHIP. She was very similar in play to a girl from around here that played 4 years at Nebraska. But because of her school and refusal to play high powered AAU (despite being recruited by all the top teams), she didn't have ALOT of offers.
Two MAC schools and one Horizon school offered her if she early committed. She wasn't ready and so in the end, ended up at a D2 school and then walked away anyway.
Fast forward 3 years. I'm refereeing a summer AAU tournament at Cloverleaf High School. waiting around (happens alot) for a team that was coming from another site. They show up. Game is a U-13 girls game. (You never knew what kind of game you were getting in your set of games). Team is from Cincinnati. My partner and I both are stunned. The parents on this team must've spent close to $500.00 Just on game uniforms and equipment. The top High School girls programs weren't dressed out like this.
- team shoes
- personalized with name And number equipment bag.
- TWO Full Varsity quality uniforms with personalized names on back
- personalized warmups
- personalized with nicknames shoot shirt underneath warm ups.
It was absurd. I coached #1 when she was at this level. There wasn't one girl close to her in ability. But boy, as soon as the game started, it was awful. I called travelling 30 seconds into the game and almost had to toss the girl's father (over a travelling call!) every time my partner or I blew the whistle it was like we were telling Pat Summit to run away. "Let 'em play!" was the battle cry. It dawned on us, afterwards that the parents WERE concerned about people seeing their daughter play at this backwater AAU tournament and every time we blew the whistle we were jeopardizing their future. It was truly pathetic.
I HATE HATE HATE the AAU world. 90% of the coaches have hidden agendas. The parents have a sense of entitlement because of the money they are wasting. My daughter didn't get that good playing in AAU tourneys. She went up to Harding School and played with the men. She got knocked down and toughened up and loved it. I HATE HATE HATE AAU. (more than I hate Pete Rose) ;)
My oldest daughter was a two sport athlete, including 2 time all state HM for basketball. (1st team All District both years). She walked away from a full ride due to burnout. And we didn't even do much AAU summer ball. (I hate, hate hate AAU). I could write a doctoral thesis on the things wrong with the AAU world we live in now. Particularly after seeing it from three sides (referee, coach and parent). I've seen unethical coaches sell parents a load of bullshit. I've seen parents seeing AAU as an automatic path to a basketball scholarship. It's a world that really benefits everyone EXCEPT the players.
Never football. A little bit of baseball; but mostly high school basketball on both the women's and men's side. Jr. high girls were the worst because of the "Daddy's Little Girl" syndrome. (We actually called it that in class.) It manifested itself in a lot of ways, but referee abuse was a primary one.
In my experience, junior high level girls basketball was the worst.
You apparently need reading comprehension yourself. I never said one word about anyone, including you, getting into their kids. (Guilty conscience maybe?)
im only talking about getting after umpires and refs. That’s all I’m talking about.
Best part of youth sports back in our day? No parental involvement. Seriously. As soon as I was done eating my Cocoa Puffs, I was on my bike. We played baseball against kids from the next block. Pick up basketball in the school yard and football on the practice field for Shaker Heights High School (because as shitty as they were back then, they apparently didn't use it). Just us. The kids. No umps, refs coaches or parents. We just played. And played. And played.
Well, in this case, this was a kid killing an adult. Pretty shocking in my book.
And MOST officials know when they blow a call or if their strike zone is off, a slight reminder simple helps them become better blue.
WTFAY to "remind them". As a parent, you have NO authority of the game officials. So all you add is noise. If an official "blew a call, he knows he did. You addinf to it does nothing except enflame the situation.
I stand by my statement though. If YOU are frustrated by the call, then its about YOU. Youth sports should NEVER be about YOU. They should only be about your kid.
Well about 5 or so years ago, a soccer referee in Utah was killed by a player who had received a yellow card during a rec league game. we talked about it at a basketball referee association meeting.
wow todd - your response seems a little harsh.
Sometimes, harshness is deserved. We are where we are with parents and youth sports because of this. Speaking as a former High school official, too many parents don't know how to act. Hell, before I became an official, I DIDN'T know how to act. But seeing it from all sides and in every different type of community harsh reactions to these people is the only hope of waking them the fuck up.
you do want the best for your kids, including having a game called fairly, so there in itself is the area for frustration.
Fairly? Or Perfectly? There's a difference. But most people say one and mean the other. There isn't a game official that does this for an avocation or a second job that doesn't call a game "fairly". But if YOU are frustrated at an official---its automatically about you at that moment.
why do these organizations have these 13 year olds umpiring? probably to save money?
How much does is cost to have your kid play in a league with 13 year old umpires? How much do those kids make? $12.00 a game? You hire real umpires thru the umpiring association and its now $30-35 per game. And that price is going to skyrocket in the next couple of years because of the severe shortage in umpires.
You're right Wargor. Address privately AND CONSTRUCTIVELY any short comings your child has. Coach 'em. But while they are PLAYING? Let them feel the freedom and joy of playing wIthout YOUR expectations of them or the umpires and coaches revealing themselves. Anything else? Then its not about them.
I can completely understand the frustration with 13 year old umpires
What fucking frustration can you have? They're 13 years old! What? You expected MLB quality umpiring? If so, then you're just as bad as any other "little league parent".
MY Y-Indian Guides Tribe chief was the former Indian star Al Rosen. (His son and I went to elementary school together.) In the mid 60's he wrote an op-ed piece in the paper about how to be a good parent. He derisively referred to morons like what we are talking about here as "little league parents". So, this is nothing new.
But your post just pisses me off. There is NO REASON, you as a parent, should ever feel anything except pride for your child. As soon as you start feeling anything else, it becomes about YOU. If that's the case....Stay the fuck home. Let him play in peace.
APB out for HayesTresselMeyer. He's MIA. Maybe he died of embarassment for this thread.
Forgive me for reposting this from two years ago with some minor update/changes. If you read the original and don't want to read it again, I understand. But with the aquisition of Phil Steele, I am now officially in ramp up mode. And our summer of discontent isn't because of scandal anymore. Its because of the impending excitement that recaptures my anticipation of Christmas from when I was a child.
On a cold December night, a woman is wheeled into a delivery room at St. Luke's Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio. After winning the fight with the nurses, she clung to an ashtray with a grey football attached to its center like it was going to protect her from the coming pain. As the spasms of childbirth wracked her slender frame, she refused any help that would remove her concentration. No, this was her moment. Her whole purpose for going through this scary and painful night was not going to be deterred by a well-meaning nurse or doctor.
Finally, as she was wracked by the spasms and the feeling she was passing a bus, there was a final push, and then the sound she was waiting to hear...the cry of a newborn. Now! Now was the moment she was waiting for! And she looked at the small talisman she brought with her, and found the little lever on its side. She moved the lever and the unmistakeable sound played out of the music box. As she sang the words to herself and the nurses cleaned up the newborn, she smiled. Across the Field was the first sound her new son heard. Later in her life, not only her grandchildren, but any members of the local Alumni Association would all call her Grandma Buckeye. That woman was my Mom. That baby boy was me.
As young children, before we could even understand why, Saturdays in the fall were important in our house. While my friends were watching Pixie and Dixie confuse Jinx the cat, and while Sky King and Roy Rogers were rounding up the bad guys, my sister and I were listening to the early LP releases of The Ohio State University Marching Band. My Mom played those records over and over until Marv Homan or someone came on the radio to broadcast the only football game that mattered that weekend. To this day, the tune from Nationwide Insurance brings a smile and a memory to my face as my Mom and I sat and listened to the broadcast together. If we were lucky, once in a great while, Ohio State would show up on TV, but I have no memory of any of those days. I remember sitting and listening to the radio.
As my Dad's practice grew and they could afford to go, they would travel the long drive down Rt 42 from Cleveland to Columbus to see a game. Next to Woody Hayes, the biggest thing to help Ohio State football grow into the monster it is today was the completion of Interstate 71. A two day drive suddenly became two hours down and two hours back. Suddenly, attending the game became something we could all do.
Our next door neighbor, who I grew up calling Uncle Bob turned out to be, along with his wife Aunt Ginny, the best friends my parents ever had. Uncle Bob had one flaw. Every Saturday, just to bust my Mom's chops, whether he needed it or not, Uncle Bob would cut his grass wearing an old dark blue football jersey. You see, Uncle Bob was the blocking fullback for Tom Harmon.
I was doomed. No matter where I went, Ohio State football was so ingrained into my soul by my Mom, that to this day my wife complains that while we do attend church on Sunday, the pilgrimmages I make on Saturday to whereever I have to go is my real religion. As I have gotten older, I think I have started to find a balance that has saved my soul. Summers like this one, might be purgutory on earth, and Ohio State football is still my number one hobby, but I have passed the torch to my children. You see, all six times I was in the delivery room, I continued the tradition my Mom started. I didn't have that music box. But I did have my voice so each time the doctor handed me a new born so that I could place them in my wife's arms, I first sang a little tune to each of my children
"We don't give a damn for the whole state of michigan, the whole state of michigan, the whole state of michigan
We don't give a damn for the whole state of michigan, we're from O HI O"
Grandma Buckeye has been gone now for a few years. When she died, my kids threatened to blow up the cemetary in Brookfield, Ohio if my aunt didn't arrange to have the Headstone actually say Grandma Buckeye on it. It now does. Earlier this year, when the controversy about ticket prices came to a head, I said that despite all the emotional ties to the program we have, that I was going to pass on season tickets. I had already told my friend with whom I have submitted tickets for twenty years that tOSU had crossed the line for us and that he would be sitting alone for the first time in 20+ years. However, Grandma Buckeye would have none of that! two weeks before the ticket deadline, I won a drawing at my local club that was waaaaaay more than the cost of my two season tickets. My wife, God bless her, even before I could say anything about the issue observed that Grandma Buckeye arranged for the good fortune to befall us so that I could still sit in 14C with Rick. So thanks Mom. I'll be there when the Urban Meyer story really unfolds this year!
My eldest daughter claims that all 6 kids are cursed. Because it would be so easy to turn away from a program that has suffered through the In and Out Burger Bowl, The Mad Hatter Bowl and the summer of our discontent. But they can't. No matter what. Its their heritage. Now she is about to make us grandparents for the first time. I have volunteered to be in the delivery room so that the baby hears the right sounds first. For some reason, she said no. But no worries. She'll need a baby sitter soon enough.
I wrote this in 2013. It was a rewrite of an earlier version a couple of years earlier. Its the definitive story of my development as a Buckeye.
Indeed that is it.
Is there a way to recover an old blog post of mine about my Mom?
At this point in my life, and all that I have seen, I'm not sure that there is anyone I've missed that I would need to hear for the first time.
Santana is the only one that comes to mind.
Tedeschi-Trucks would be another.
When your Mom is known to everyone as Grandma Buckeye, I really had no choice. I wrote a blog about it a few years ago, but there's no longer a link on my profile to it. I don't know how to find it now; which is too bad. It was a great tribute to a great woman.
Hairball took his style points from ME. I was rocking those bad boys when he was still a D3 coach.