Tuesday, September 29, 2009

next to lovin' I like fightin' best

Organized children's sports are a major stressor in my life. Practices, games, pictures that I never buy, childish parents, pop and candy handed out at every game . . . it's like they took my myriad aversions to an externally imposed schedule, overscheduling, disproportionate commemoration of insignificant events, failure/success-by-proxy parents and junk food, bred them all to each other and whelped a belching, oozing behemoth of irritation, capable of sending me into a rage seizure, complete with spittle foam and tongue swallowing.

Last night both of our boys had a soccer game (rescheduled for Fall Break). The Hulk's team has won every game, thanks almost entirely to a very skilled and competitive little boy on the team. He and The Hulk usually get along all right, but yesterday for some reason he decided to kick The Hulk in the crotch. Whaaa? Then toward the end of the game the kid (who it must be admitted is a showboater) shot from halfway down the field and missed the goal by a good fifteen feet. So his dad starts berating him (classy) and asking why he missed it. The kid answers, "Because [The Hulk] was in my way!" (Lie.) And the dad yells at him, "Well, next time just kick him!"

Pardon? Did that really happen?

So The Hulk has his instructions. Here's how they go:
Step 1: Say to the kid, "Look, man. You need to chill. I'm not in your way and you'd better step off or I'm going to deck you." He has my permission to change the wording to modern vernacular instead of creaky aging hippie speech. If problem persists . . .
Step 2: Tell the coach. If problem persists . . .
Step 3: Tell us and the other boy's parents. If problem persists . . .
Step 4: Punch the kid and keep punching him until the problem is fixed.

Don't worry, because I warned him that fighting hurts, but just like with Opie and the bully who kept taking his lunch money, sometimes it's necessary. And I've got his back.

It's this kind of cowboy diplomacy that makes me a better fit for the boonies than the suburbs.


Unknown said...

Oh man, such good advice. And even if The Hulk gets a little bloodied in the process, well, he discovers that he won't die if someone fights back.

Wish I'd popped a few kids in the nose in my younger days. It would've made high school a much easier ride.