Just.Don't

 

We've all done it. I'm guilty of it. You're guilty of it. Every single sports parent or fan has done it. We yell at the refs. "Are you blind?" "Just let 'em play, ref!" "Where did you get your stripes, the zoo?" We yell at the coaches, "Come on, coach! Run a play!" We yell at the players, "Come on! Move your feet!" It's all part of the game, right? Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. 

Recently, I came upon this: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71lZCFM_fyM

That there folks is the not-so-rare suburban Karen attacking a lacrosse player on the field and her rational son telling her to get the fuck back in the stands, that she's an embarrassment. 

This weekend, while enjoying some college fall ball, I overheard a mom bragging about how the day before she charged at a ref on the field because her younger son (who btw is 17 years old) took a hard hit, and she just "knew" he was concussed because his helmet was up on his head. "They didn't even throw a flag!! I ran onto that field and gave that ref a piece of my mind! My son is on the sideline with a concussion and they didn't even throw a flag!??!?" Her friend: "OMG! He got a concussion? Is he ok?" Mom: "Well, I'm not sure. The trainer said he didn't have one, but his helmet was almost off his head. There is NO WAY he wasn't concussed." Her husband was sitting there, laughing and bragging about his "mama bear" wife. "Oh, you don't mess with her boys. And the fact that a flag was never thrown? Fucking ridiculous." 

Now, go back and read that last paragraph slowly. Hell, just read the last four bolded words. I had to bite my tongue until it bled. I didn't know these people from Adam, but secretly I was seething. There was so much wrong with that conversation. You just "know" he was concussed, but you didn't take him to seek medical attention after the game? If he did have a concussion, what are you doing five hours away at his brother's fall ball game? So many questions ran through my head. Again, I didn't know them so I wasn't going to ask them and have it turn confrontational. Besides, I was there to watch my son play in his first college game!

Many, many years ago, when The Boy was six years old and playing in a lax tournament, he was getting mobbed. I mean, MOBBED. Sticks all over him. Head, shoulders, back, just everywhere. I wasn't a new lacrosse mom, my oldest had played club ball during his middle school years. I never freaked out. This, for some reason, was a bit different. It was a big, multi-field tournament. Everyone was basically standing on the sidelines. Boy, I saw him getting mobbed, the ref not throwing a flag and I ran down the sideline, bellowing like a bull, "Hey!! What the hell? Are you freaking going to do something?!?! HEY!!!" 

With that last "hey," all action on the field stopped. All the kids and refs were looking at me. Oh, and in case you're wondering I DID say "freak" not fuck. For God's sake people, it was a children's youth tournament. I'm not completely without any standards!! Anyway, back to my story. 

Where was I...Oh, yeah. All eyes were on me. The ref pointed at me. I put my hands up and said, "I'm out. I'm sorry. I'm out," and backed away from the field and left the game, muttering to myself as I walked away, "Mob my son like that. How dare they. Who do those refs think they are, letting kids behave that way? No flags, nothing? This is bullshit." 

The dads never let me forget that moment. Even 12 years later, those dads still rib me about that moment. You see, there were three things I didn't find out until later: 

1. A flag was thrown and two players were ejected as I made it to the other end of the field. In my "mama bear" mode, I didn't notice this. At.All. 

2. There were only 15 seconds left in the game. 

3. My son was embarrassed. 

My son wasn't hurt. He was just fine, but his little six-year-old self was pissed at me. I don't think he knew how to tell me he was embarrassed by my actions. The fact that he still laughs about it with me at basically every game we've gone to since, tells me he remembers that moment. 

As a sports mom for nearly 27 years, I've seen a lot of nasty parents and coaches. I watched a mom at a 9U football game coldcock a head coach after the game and start an all-out brawl between parents and coaches. Nine-year-old players. I've listened to parents of 10-year-old boys hoot and holler when an opposing player got hurt. "That's how you do it! Hit 'em harder!"

I've seen parents go to the sidelines during a game, and start cussing the coach because of their kid's playing time. Do you get that? During a game. I watched as a 12-year-old's mother confronted the coach, her ex-husband, about their son's playing time. On the sideline, during the game. Then the stepdad got into it with the coach's girlfriend, on the sideline, during the game, about her being the team mom. No one noticed that the boy was standing there, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Yes, as the Mama Bear of three boys that all played basically every sport under the sun throughout their lives, I've seen a lot. That behavior is why I stopped being a team mom after 15 years. I would take the brunt of a lot of hate, and I had no control over who played and when. I've had to break up fights between warring exes in stands and on the sidelines. I have seen enough to know I have seen enough. 

Running onto the field and physically going after officials doesn't make you the cool, do anything for her kid, mama bear. It makes you an adult who can't keep your emotions in check and can't be rational when shit goes down. If parents keep physically going after coaches, officials, players, and other parents, sooner or later, they'll be no spectators allowed for everyone's safety. I know it's hard being a sports mom. Been one for 27 years. But keep that shit in control.

Massachusetts is facing a youth hockey referee shortage. They have had to cancel games because parents are running onto the ice to confront refs during games. One father last weekend ran on the ice and physically removed his son the goalie from the game, thereby stopping the game and the team forfeiting. In 2019, Mass had over 900 youth hockey referees. Nine hundred. Today? There are less than 300. It's not all because of COVID, trust and believe. It's parents and players behaving badly.

There are laws in place in areas of Kentucky and Texas where no one can leave a football game until the officials are out of the parking lot. This is for youth through college football. Coaches have been attacked by players, shot by parents, and attacked by angry mobs. I honestly don't know how they do it. Three years ago while I was running chains during a JV football game, a ref told me I should be an official. Nope. Not for all the money in the world.

Throwing a flag isn't going to change the fact your kid was hurt during a full-contact sport. You running on the field to lose your fucking mind on an official while your kid is laying on the sideline isn't going to change the fact your kid got hurt playing a full-contact sport.

Take care of your kid first, and take official action later through leagues, schools, conferences, etc. Your kid was hurt. Take care of THAT first.

Being a Karen or Todd during your kid's game isn't going to do anything but embarrass your kid, and if you have any conscience, it should embarrass you, too.

Don't do it. Just.Don't.

That said, Happy Halloween folks!

I'll leave you with this:

- Janie

What A Week I Had!!

 Whew! I thought being a lacrosse mom was hard work!! Now he's off to college and I'm an empty nester, with the exception of my fur babies.

So, when I'm not delivering training, I'm writing and developing training, and keeping up with Lax Twitter on my phone. When I AM delivering training, I generally keep my phone off so I'm not distracted by it. Easy to do when I've been working remotely for 19 months now. 

Why am I even mentioning that? Well, because it's going to lead to what started out as a typical week, and ended up with me scratching my head and saying to myself, "Self? How did you get here?"

So Monday last, I was supposed to be delivering training. No, wait. Let me back up further than that. In August, the weekend before I took The Boy to college (yes, college now...) we went to a Premiere Lacrosse League (PLL) game in Albany, NY. While we were there, between games, we went to a merch tent for Shootout For Soldiers. I had peripherally heard of this organization but didn't really know what it was about. They are a charity organization that, "uses lacrosse as a platform to support American veterans and foster community engagement." You can read more about them here. Well, for obvious reasons, this org is right up my alley, right? Super interested in them and you should be, too. 

Now, if you're back from reading up on them, shall continue. So, I bought The Boy an SFSLax shaft. Their shafts are made by Epoch lacrosse and are really really gorgeous shafts. So, we watched the next game, then afterward caught up with some players for pics (Tyson Bell and John Ranagan) and got his lax shaft signed by the Cannons goalie. 

Fast forward a week or so, and I see someone talking about meeting Alexis Brandolini, one of the directors out of Baltimore. I jump in the conversation, mention the stick, and wonder how we missed each other (Alexis and I) in Albany. We start following each other, which led to Erik Mineo (their program manager) to follow me and so on. 

So, now move to Monday last. I was supposed to be delivering training, but my class was canceled. So I checked my lax twitter and that is when I saw it. A tweet from Alexis.  HELP!! They had a lax shaft signed at the PLL championship game in DC by the 2020 MVP, Matt Rambo, and it was raffled off as a fundraiser. Unfortunately, the person in possession of the shaft had an emergency, couldn't get the shaft back to the group and next thing you know, they are at the airport and the shaft was confiscated at the security checkpoint. (An aside here: You can't fly with a three-foot-long metal shaft as a carry-on item. That shit can be used as a weapon, and if you've seen the news lately, NO ONE wants someone losing their fucking mind in the cabin of a 757 while wielding a titanium shaft.) So, I messaged Alexis and told her I'm on it. A few phone calls and hours later, I get a call that the shaft has been retrieved and we can pick it up the next day. Shoutout to TSA right here! Their customer support manager, June, heard the story and she is ALSO a military retiree. She went out of her way to locate that stick. 

Next thing you know, it's Tuesday and Alexis is playing real-life MarioKart on 295 from Baltimore to DC and I'm driving like Mad Max from Annapolis at the same time. Props to that crazy woman. I left 15 minutes behind her and she beat me by 40 minutes. Holy shit!

We meet up at the airport, pictures are taken, hugs are exchanged and the shaft was on its way home to be shipped to the winner. 

After that, the CEO of Epoch lacrosse started following me. ME. THE CEO OF EPOCH FOLLOWS ME!! I was like, holy cow!! Truly honored to have all these new lax followers. Truly. 

So, a couple days after the excitement and getting my 15 minutes of Twitter fame, I come across a company called Re-Lax Sports Company whose mission is to, "inspire environmental and economic sustainability in the lacrosse world." They have a program called, GetOneGiveOne. You buy one head and they will send another head to a lacrosse organization of your choice. I chose Kenya Lacrosse. So I buy this as a surprise for The Boy. Lo and behold, he messages me that HE just ordered a head from the very same company and almost the exact same time. (He chose Taiwan Lacrosse, btw).

WHY do I mention this? Well, I tweet that I ordered the head and mesh. It's liked by one of my favorite pro lax players, Adam Ghitelman. WHAT? I know, right? THEN, I'm getting a text from customer service that's like, "Hey, so I see two orders going to the same place. Want me to send them in one box? For helping us reduce our carbon footprint, I'll throw in some swag..." So I'm all excited, and I tweet that "someone from customer service" texted me. (I really hoped they wouldn't get in trouble for giving him a free t-shirt...) Well, probably not. Because that customer service person named Colton? Oh, he's only the FOUNDER of the company!! WHAT?!?!?! I know, bananas, right? 

So to wrap up my week, I wound up getting followed by a DIII football coach that's HILARIOUS and doesn't follow many people (he's famous in the DIII football world), wound up getting followed by basically all of the SFS staff, a lax player, wait no, TWO players on the Danish National team (James and Thor), another lax player from Scandinavia, AND I got pics of the boy in his college lax uniform. 

That's a pretty big lacrosse week for some random chick with an interest in a charity and lacrosse, wouldn't you say? 

Oh, I won't forget you all. You got me to where I am today...

So here are my parting words of wisdom: 

Wearing cowboy hats to sporting events can be distracting to other people unless it's a rodeo. 

 

Until next time!

Janie

 Always Believe in Someday

When I was in the 3rd grade, I wrote a report about Thailand. I was fascinated with it. The water buffalo, the people, the landscape, the temples. I told myself, "Someday, I'm going to go there."

When I was 20, I was fascinated with Italy. Rome, the architecture, the history. I told myself, "Someday, I'm going to go there."

When I was 22, my brother took his dream trip to Australia. Oh, he regaled me with tales of his exploits and the country and how amazing it was. I told myself, "Someday, I'm going to go there."

All my life I was fascinated with Andalusia, Spain, Portugal. The horses, the people, the history, the music, the flamenco dancing. I always told myself, "Someday, I'm going to go there."

We all live our lives with somedays, don't we? We always say, "Someday..."

A few days ago, I was talking with a friend I haven't seen since 1999. He said, "Someday, we'll have another beer together..."

Yes, yes we will. You know why? My somedays are today. 

In 2005, I was sent to Thailand with the Navy. I was on a bus, headed to a Hindu temple when I saw a boy riding a water buffalo. It hit me. I was doing my someday. 

In 2017, my company rewarded me with a travel voucher to anywhere. I took two of my sons to Italy, and as the cab came into Rome and I saw the Coliseum, I said to myself, "This is my someday."

In 2018, my next company sent me to Australia to work for a month. As I watched kangaroos run in front of my car every morning, and took a trip to Phillip Island, and saw the world's smallest penguins, I realized that this was one of my "somedays."

Now, we're in 2021. In two days I leave for Portugal and Spain to watch my son play lacrosse in an international tournament. I am realizing another "someday."

Keep dreaming of your someday. They happen. They come true. They really do.

Chico and Us

We had to put our dog down today. We rescued him 12 years ago. He was 5 then. This decision wrecked us. Little Man was destroyed. We'll bounce back, we always do