auntbijou: (Angry Chibi Auntie!!)
Dear Angry Soccer Mom,

Really, I do understand your concerns about the soccer fields. They are crap. Complete and total crap. And they are definitely a lawsuit waiting to happen.

However... sending angry and vaguely threatening emails to every member of the city council, berating them on the condition of the fields, and for not doing anything about them, is not helping us. Or the kids.

1. Yes, the fields are full of rocks and weeds, they need to be stripped and dressed, the rocks pressed back into the ground, a new layer of soil and sod laid down, seeded, etc. However, none of that is going to do any good if we don't get the fields irrigated, and right now, we've only gotten three of them done because... that's all the city gave us money for!! And we had to do the work ourselves!

2. Yes, there does need to be sidewalks to all the fields. We agree with you on that. In fact, we've been pointing this out to the City for quite some time, mostly to deaf ears. We've pointed out the Americans with Disabilities Act, and the fact that we could be sued, since there are several handicapped relatives of players who cannot get out to the fields without a great deal of help. However, once again, the CITY owns the fields.

3. There is no point at all in trying to do anything with the fields right now. The season started last weekend. We will be playing games every weekend until May. In order for anything to be done to improve the fields, we would have to tear them up, which would render them... unplayable. And again, there is no point doing anything to the fields until they are irrigated, which they are not, and the city has told us that there is no more money for improvements until next year.

4. Writing to every single member of the city council is great. We applaud you. However, blaming the soccer board for problems that are actually the provence of the city is definitely playing dirty pool. I realize you probably have no idea that we really have no control over the field conditions, though we've been trying for three and a half years. You would have earned more respect from me if you had (1) signed your name and (2) gotten other parents to write as well. Right now, you just look like a one-woman vendetta that is just barely this side of crazy and I bet City Council, from the tone of your last email, is wondering if they ought to install metal detectors outside of City Hall.

Get some other parents involved, and get them to write, too, and even better, sign your names. And you know, we could really use volunteers to help dig the trenches to lay the waterlines, since we have to do the work ourselves, oh, and if you could help us dig out the rocks and stuff, that would be great, and hey, help us raise money to do this stuff, and we might actually respect you. Otherwise, STFU and stop pissing the Parks Board off, They're refusing to mow the fields, you dumbass!!

No love,

Auntie


Yes, we have this angry parent who has been writing letters to the City Council, demanding that they fix the fields right now. As in, this minute, dammit!! Honey, if I had the power, I would wave my wand and say something like, "Viridis Agri!" and "Expello Cilicis!"

However, redressing the fields is going to take a lot of hot, sweaty grunt work, and it's going to take time. For one thing, when the fields were built, the City took the lowest bid, and the fields were dressed with construction fill.

Yes. You read that right. Construction fill. You know, the stuff that construction companies throw away? Because it's full of crap like glass, chunks of asphalt, rocks, metal... all that good stuff!! Yes, that's just what you want on a soccer field, right?

Now do y'all understand why I say that soccer is the red-headed step-child of sports in this town?

This was once a volcanically active area, and we have rocky soil. You'll find limestone, flint... you name it, we got it. And it percolates up through the soil with every rain. It's not unusual to dig in your garden and toss out a wheelbarrow's worth of rocks. Add that to the rocks in the soil they used to dress the fields, and you begin to understand the scope of our problems. Not only that, but the recent drought showed how badly the fields were leveled. It's just... so frustrating!! And then the irrigation issues.

The soccer board does not have the money to irrigate the fields. Even if we did, we wouldn't be allowed to because the board doesn't own the fields. The CITY does, and we lease them. We've managed to lay irrigation for three fields, but... WE had to do the grunt work. The City bought the pipe, fittings, and all that, and WE had to supply the trencher, shovels, and warm bodies to do the work. No, they did not hire a plumber. They paid a master plumber and a master electrician to consult with us, and draw up a plan... but not to do the work, or even oversee us.

Yeah, that's exactly the problem we're dealing with. That, and our liaison on the Parks Board is a man who can't make up his mind whether or not to retire, and rather than actually do anything, he continually promises to do stuff for the soccer fields, promises to send this or that, or put this project through, or that... and then ignores it. Needless to say, neither the baseball or football leagues have this problem with him.

It's very frustrating, and then to have this... person... writing the city council, implying that it's the laziness of the soccer board that is responsible for the problems at the fields is... beyond frustrating!! And then she doesn't even have the guts to sign her name??

*tears out hair*

The last email she sent, which I got a copy of in my inbox today, is... well... it's vaguely creepy. And faintly scary. We suspect it's a mom from one team in particular, but the coach (who is also a board member) has not been able to get anyone to confess. Nor has he apparently been able to get her to understand what our role is, and how exactly our hands have been tied.

This is so... frustrating!!!! GAAAAAHH!!!!
auntbijou: (Default)
Am I ever going to see the Insane Soccer Parents and not get this massive flinch/flail reaction from them? Seriously! Yesterday morning, after I got the Impossible Son settled in his class, I was about to turn out of the parking lot, and here comes the Insane Soccer Parents, tootling down the street toward the junior high. Then Mrs. Insane sees me, flinches, her husband notices, looks, sees me, flinches, then both of them start flailing, and their car swerves. All this with their son in the back seat going, "Huh, what?"

You'd think I had six inch fangs, dripping with saliva, and I was staring longingly at their throats or something! I mean, isn't that the reaction usually reserved for spotting Godzilla just before he steps on your house??

So, this morning, I drive up to Mr. Manzie's school, and I'm waiting to turn into the parking lot. They come up, waiting to turn out of the parking lot. And again, they spot me. I decide to grab the bull by the horns and wave cheerfully at them, with a smile (because I'm evil that way).

I'll give you three guesses how they reacted.

Maybe tomorrow, I should wear a hockey mask with a little tiny drip of blood coming from one corner of the mouth. I mean, it couldn't possibly make their reactions any worse! I thought for a few minutes there that they were going to leave their car and flee. You know, this almost hurts my feelings (though not really, because they mean less to me than a gnat). I have done nothing to these people. And, you know, my husband did nothing to them, either, other than warn them that he would call the police if they tried to show up at a soccer game with the intent to harass and harangue (I'm being really, really generous here, because what Mr. Insane actually threatened to do to THO was "kick your @)#%*&!! ass!!"). I should probably ask Mr. Manzie's teacher if the Insane's younger son is in her class, because... that would be just my luck. Can you imagine field trips with Mrs. Insane? I'd have to get all Chilly Pissed Off Southern Gal on her. *head-desk*

Cut for more ranting and raving )
auntbijou: (Default)
Am I ever going to see the Insane Soccer Parents and not get this massive flinch/flail reaction from them? Seriously! Yesterday morning, after I got the Impossible Son settled in his class, I was about to turn out of the parking lot, and here comes the Insane Soccer Parents, tootling down the street toward the junior high. Then Mrs. Insane sees me, flinches, her husband notices, looks, sees me, flinches, then both of them start flailing, and their car swerves. All this with their son in the back seat going, "Huh, what?"

You'd think I had six inch fangs, dripping with saliva, and I was staring longingly at their throats or something! I mean, isn't that the reaction usually reserved for spotting Godzilla just before he steps on your house??

So, this morning, I drive up to Mr. Manzie's school, and I'm waiting to turn into the parking lot. They come up, waiting to turn out of the parking lot. And again, they spot me. I decide to grab the bull by the horns and wave cheerfully at them, with a smile (because I'm evil that way).

I'll give you three guesses how they reacted.

Maybe tomorrow, I should wear a hockey mask with a little tiny drip of blood coming from one corner of the mouth. I mean, it couldn't possibly make their reactions any worse! I thought for a few minutes there that they were going to leave their car and flee. You know, this almost hurts my feelings (though not really, because they mean less to me than a gnat). I have done nothing to these people. And, you know, my husband did nothing to them, either, other than warn them that he would call the police if they tried to show up at a soccer game with the intent to harass and harangue (I'm being really, really generous here, because what Mr. Insane actually threatened to do to THO was "kick your @)#%*&!! ass!!"). I should probably ask Mr. Manzie's teacher if the Insane's younger son is in her class, because... that would be just my luck. Can you imagine field trips with Mrs. Insane? I'd have to get all Chilly Pissed Off Southern Gal on her. *head-desk*

Cut for more ranting and raving )
auntbijou: (Default)
 As some of you will recall from this post and this post, we had a soccer parent with issues who did not like the Husbandly One.  Of course, after that particular season was over, we didn't have to deal with Insane Soccer Mom, or her husband/partner/whatever-the-hell-he-is, Mr. Psycho Wannabe Cop.  Well, except for the occasional times THO saw her in the parking lot at the local grocery store.  Those meetings usually went something like this: THO would be walking cheerfully along through the parking lot, usually with a happily chattering son holding his hand, or a busily yakking daughter waving her hands as she described something to him, a small SUV would drive past them, the window would roll down, and Mrs. Insane would lean out the window and yell some variant of "You jerk!" at him, and drive away.

Maturity need not apply, I guess.

Well, this season, Mrs. Insane's older son is on the same U12 team as my daughter.  Mrs. Insane threw a royal hissy fit when she got the team schedule.  Why?  Because she found out that the team had to travel.  Now... this is not the "select" team, which would be the team with all the best players on it that goes to tournaments, etc.  This is just the rec league team.  Miss Priss wanted to stay on the rec team one more season, because next season, she moves up to U13, and won't be playing with her best friend anymore.  So, while the rec team travels, they only travel to Austin.  The farthest we've gone was yesterday, to play at the Lake Travis fields, which was about an hour's drive away.  The select U12 team travels to Victoria, Corpus Christi, San Antonio, etc... which can be exhausting, because sometimes, that means traveling on Saturday AND Sunday.  It's been a scramble to make sure Mrs. Insane's son makes it to the games, because she refuses to drive him.  This has meant major inconveniences for the coach and other parents, because the coach's wife just had a baby, and there isn't a lot of room in their truck now.  WE have plenty of room, but as you can see by the above paragraph, Mrs. Insane isn't too fond of us.  So, it's been a lot of fuss and bother.

Now, I have to say that Mrs. Insane is most likely not the most observant of women, because she only realized TODAY that Miss Priss is our daughter.  This after THO ran one of the team's practices, because the coach and his family had to make an unexpected trip to San Antonio for a death in the family.  Mr. Insane noticed, and wouldn't let his son practice with the team, instead keeping him with the younger son at the little kids' practice.  He did this for two more practices... just in case!

*insert eye-roll here*

Okay, so today, we traveled to Slaughter Creek for a game at 3:30, and walk up to the coach's truck where the kids and parents were waiting to find out what field we were on.  And Mrs. Insane's eyes rove over the arriving parents and light on THO.  Her face sours with disgust, and she immediately says, quite loudly in fact, "Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me!"

THO ignored this, because really, what was the point?  He just rolled his eyes and walked up to the coach to talk to the kids, and help out unloading things from the truck.  I missed most of that, being busy with trying to keep the Impossible Son from being hit by passing vehicles, and hugging the kids as they came trooping up.  I heard the "You've got to be kidding me," but I had no idea it was aimed at my husband!  

So, we find out the field on our schedule is not the field we will be playing on, no, it's way over there on the OTHER side of the complex (for some reason, that's eerily familiar), and we all troop back to the cars.  The coach offers to take our cooler (we were doing snack detail), because THO and I had found a nice shady spot to park, and didn't see a reason to move our car when our legs work perfectly fine.  And that's when the Campaign began.  

Apparently, Mrs. Insane didn't realize that the coach and his wife are very good friends of ours, and that our daughters are best friends.  She started in right away telling Mrs. Coach that she wasn't aware that "That Man" as she called THO, had anything to do with the team, and that she had specifically TOLD our league president that she didn't want to have her children on any team associated with THO, because THO was "unstable and psychotic."  And that she had half a mind to just take her son home.

Mrs. Coach was rather stunned by this, and said politely that taking her son home was her perogative, because she was, after all, his parent, and that Mrs. Coach couldn't make her stay, but at the moment, we only had seven players, and it wasn't for sure that any more were arriving, and that her son was really, really needed for the game.  And since her son, and our daughter, had been playing on the same team for the last six weeks without any problems, and that I had actually intervened a few times on the behalf of her son,and had also offered rather generously to go buy him a pair of cleats (I didn't know whose son he was, and even if I had, I still would have offered.  Because I'm just built that way) since he doesn't have any, that she really didn't have any grounds to complain.

As you can imagine, that was less than satisfactory on Mrs. Insane's part.  In fact, she was pretty darn upset, and immediately went to work on the other parents, trying to influence them against THO, though we're not sure exactly what she wanted to accomplish.  THO isn't coaching Miss Priss' U12 team this season.  He's just a team parent like everyone else.  

This sort of backfired on her because most of the parents already know THO, either from coming to practices and games this season, or because of last season, or because their younger kids have been on his teams.  So they pretty much laughed in her face.  One of the moms sort of stared at her for a moment and then said, "Um... exactly HOW is Mr. Husbandly unstable?  Or psychotic?"

Mrs. Insane said indignantly, "Because he threatened to call the police!  Just because of our kid!!"

LMAO!!!

It was definitely a day of frustration for Mrs. Insane, I must say!  The final blow came when her younger son, being very hot, asked for something to drink.  She said, "You'll have to go ask the coach, sweetie!  He has the drinks!"

Mrs. Coach smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, no, we didn't bring the snacks and drinks today.  That's THO and his wife that brought them.  You'll have to go ask them, honey!"

Heapin' the coals, heapin' the coals!  

It took her about fifteen minutes to work up the nerve!!  And yes, the little one (who was only six) got his drink.  

I feel sorry for the kids.  Really.  Because their mom is... well... a little off.  (I'm bein' REALLY generous, here!)  And she left early, declaring she was going to call our league president to complain.  Evidently, she has this fixed sort of notion in her head that being on the board, or coaching for our league, are paying positions.  They're not.  We're all volunteers.  None of us are being paid at all.  Every single bit of the money that comes in to LYSA goes to the kids.  Literally.  We pay for uniform shirts and socks.  Sometimes, we even pay for shin guards and cleats.  And balls.  It's not like we're making vast amounts of money for this.  I mean, we still need to find a way to irrigate our fields, we need to replant the grass, we need new nets, and a whole slough of other things.  For one parent to launch a vendetta because of a personality conflict reeks of ridiculousness.  I vote for letting her hoist herself on her own petard.  She's awfully good at it as it is.  We won't have to expend any effort whatsoever. Just... stand back and watch the show.

Yeah, I know, y'all are thinking, "Where's Auntie's indignation?  Where's that pithy remark she's so good at?"

Well, my dears, Auntie refuses to engage in a battle of the wits with someone who is so obviously disarmed.  Besides, she WANTS to fight it out, and y'all know, I NEVER do what someone who pisses me off wants me to do.  And you know, bein' nice and polite to her seriously pisses her off, because she has no excuse or opportunity to start a fight.  It's like my own version of torture, and in this case, I am enjoying it way too much to stop!

We will see what we will see!

May 2020

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