Just one of those days...

Some of the parents at my son's elementary school fail to grasp the concept of the drop-off lane.  You know, the one where the idea is to... DROP OFF YOUR KID???  Not linger and chat, not talk to a teacher or another parent, not PARK, GET OUT, AND WALK INTO THE SCHOOL???

*head-desk*

We need something like a, oh, I don't know, Drop Off Lane Nazi.  You know, a very cranky, control-issue type person to stand there and bark, "All right, move along, move along!  This is the drop off lane!  You pull up, drop off your kid, and DRIVE AWAY!!  You don't stop, you don't park, you don't stop to watch your kid walk in!  Move your car, you're taking up space!  You wanna talk to the teacher?? Okay, parking lot's over THERE, move your ass out of the line and PARK IT!!!  You wanna socialize with another parent?  This ain't the social lane!  Go to Java Motion, get a cup of coffee, and GET THE HELL OUT OF MY DROP OFF LANE!!"

Yeah, like that!

*sigh*

In other news, it's amazing what random things pop out of your memory and suddenly make sense.  The Husbandly One and I were standing in the kitchen yesterday afternoon, preparing ourselves for soccer practice, talking over the notes we've taken on what needs to be worked on most, and so on, and THO suddenly said, "You know, the thing that is just driving me nuts is my girls.  We had so many opportunities to score last Saturday, we should have scored, and, instead, what happened is the girls would just... kick the ball straight to the goalie!  I can't get them to stop, and it's frustrating the hell out of me, because I can't figure out why!!"

Picture a giant light bulb going off in Auntie's head.  I stood there with my mouth hanging open, my eyes practically falling out of my head, while choirs of angels sung around me, and... okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic.  Actually, it was a lot more like being slammed upside the head with a big, cold fish.  

"What?" said the Husbandly One.

Now, this is an issue that has bothered me since the Impertinent Daughter started playing soccer, but I was new to it, and didn't feel confident enough to speak up about it.  By the time I knew more about it, I didn't question it, because... I was used to it. 

Every coach Miss Priss has had since her first coach has made this same fundamental mistake.  Those of you from countries where football (soccer) is something you've played with your friends since you were little are going to be floored.  I know I was.  Anyhow, every coach, in an effort to teach their kids to aim the ball when kicking it into the goal has done the same thing.  Put their goalie in the net and said, "Kick the ball at the goalie.  Aim for the goalie."

That, my friends, is insane.

When I asked that first soccer coach about it, thinking there was something really off about it, he said, "Oh, it's just for practice.  They won't actually aim for the goalie during the game!!"

I said, "But..."

He said, "No, really, the kids are smart enough to figure this out."

I was new, I let it go.  But, the kids in our league have had a very hard time when playing against kids outside our league, which they have to do from U10 on up, because the ranks start thinning out at that point.  And they mostly have a hard time scoring!!

I told THO this, and his jaw dropped.  "You're kidding!" he said.  And I realized, I was always the one who went to practice with the kids, not him!  And when he was coaching the Impossible Son, he didn't teach them that, because when Mr. Manzie started U6... no goalies!!

Our solution?  Having a parent stand behind the net during drills with a red shirt in hand, standing where the goalie wasn't standing, and telling them to aim for the red shirt.  Once they had that down, the parent went away, and the girls were told, "Okay, try it, and don't aim for the goalie!!"

There was much improvement!!

Another issue?  No one, and I do mean no one in our league has done any dedicated coaching of our goalies.  No one.  Not one coach.  Coaching for our goalies consists mostly of, "here, take these gloves, put on this shirt, and go stand in the net there.  This is your box.  You can grab the ball with your hands.  When you get it, kick it out.  OH, and don't let anybody kick the ball in the goal.  Got it?  Good!"

That's it.  

Guess who's coaching the goalies now for both the U8 and U12 teams?

Yeah, that would be me.  I've got to go around to the other coaches and make sure they know to tell their goalies they have only 6 seconds to get rid of that ball.  *sighs and rolls eyes*  Yeah, we're getting hit with THAT penalty a lot.  Now I know why.  I'm looking forward to this weekend's games, though.  Things should be interesting.  VERY interesting!

 

Growl, snap, SNARL!!!

OH, I'm so pissed off right now that I could... I could... oh, I don't know but give me a few minutes, and I'm sure I'll think of something suitably vile!!

My parents... my DAD specifically, sent me one of those... emails.  You know, a chain email?  Yeah.  This one, though... it just... royally pissed me off.  Normally, I skim it so I can say honestly that I saw it, and then delete it.  Well... if I can stomach it at all, that is.  Some, I just delete, period.  But this one...

*snarl, snarl, snarl...*

I love my parents.  Well, I definitely love my mom.  My dad and I, well... we've got issues, but for the most part... okay, I love him.  It's complicated.  I mean, there's a REASON he lives in Houston... and I don't.  It's a lot easier to love him from a distance, if you know what I mean.  And they tried to raise me to be a good person.  They taught me to question things, to never accept something just because I read it in a book, or saw it on the news, or somebody told me it was true.  They taught me patriotism is complex, and never black and white.  They taught me to look beyond a person's appearance, to not judge them by color, creed, or so help them, fashion sense or lack thereof, but... by their actions.  You know, basic rules of living.  Same stuff I'm trying to teach my spawn.  

Granted, Dad is 84, and Mom is 80.  And being human is a changing, evolving process.  Heck, I don't believe stuff I believed ten years ago.  So, I guess it makes sense that my parents' views can change.  But this?

They sent me this chain email, "You might be a True American," and it went off to spout things like, "you might be a True American if you don't get upset when you see the Ten Commandments in a public space," or "You might be a True American if you can say what you believe is right, and don't care who hears it..."

That didn't bother me.  I was already heading for the delete button, when the last line caught my eye.  "We sing the American National Anthem in ENGLISH!!"

WTF???

Okay, most Americans can't even sing the FIRST VERSE correctly!!

*takes a deep breath for patience*

That was just the straw that broke the camel's back, y'all.  I was completely infuriated, because not an hour earlier, I was at a local shop, and saw a jar on the counter by the cash register asking for donations.  Donations.  For what?  For a bunch of folks from our area who are deploying to Iraq.  And why?  To buy body armor.  Because apparently, the body armor they are being issued isn't trustworthy.  Well, think about it.  It was supplied by the LOWEST BIDDING CONTRACTOR!!   Would you trust your life to that??  

Maybe you don't see the relationship between the two events, but believe me, it's there.  Here's an email, basically ESPOUSING the deterioration of the Bill of Rights, in favor of WHITE CHRISTIANS, asking us to support this... ridiculous war that we went into for entirely the WRONG REASONS... and then, on the other hand, a donation jar asking for money to help troops buy adequate body armor.

I think Molly Ivins was right.  We need to grab our pots and pans, hub caps, cymbals, WHATEVER... we need to go knocking on our neighbors doors and goad them into grabbing THEIR pots and pans, and we need to march out in our streets, banging on them for everything we're worth, shouting, "ENOUGH!!!  ENOUGH ALREADY!!  BRING OUR PEOPLE HOME AND STOP THIS STUPID WAR!!  STOP WASTING OUR SOLDIERS' LIVES ON SOMETHING YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE STARTED, AND HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO END!!!  STOP SACRIFICING OUR CHILDREN, BROTHERS, SISTERS, HUSBANDS, WIVES, ON YOUR GOD-DAMNED PRIDE AND END IT ALREADY!!"

*pant, pant, pant*

I think I need to go hug my kids.

Hee!

The Husbandly One loves me, he truly, truly loves me!  And how do I know this?  Because of what he brought me home!

Do you wanna know?  Do you wanna know? Do you wanna know??

Hee!!

He knows me SO well!!  He brought home "The Laws of the Game 2007/2008," which is the rule book authorized by the International Football 
Association Board and FIFA.  Heh.  That's soccer to us Yanks.  

He LOVES me!!  He really, really LOVES ME!!!

*laughs and whirls in a circle happily*