Summer = Psycho Parents
Normally even-keeled adults take to the field and suddenly transform into crazy, angry, abusive parents. They'll fight with other moms and dads, the referees, the coaches, and even with the kids.
What is the cause of this nasty phenomenon?
Ph.D student Jay Goldstein of the University of Maryland School of Public Health decided to find out why. He surveyed and observed over 340 parents during youth soccer games in suburban Washington D.C. What he concluded was that parents suffered from an affliction identical to road rage. Goldstein calls it "sideline rage."
Moms and dads most likely to lose control at a soccer game could be identified as having control-oriented personalities. “When they perceived something that happened during the game to be personally directed at them or their child, they got angry,” reports Goldstein. “That’s consistent with findings on road rage.”
More studies need to be done in order to find out just how this kind of parental behavior affects their kids. However, I'm going to assume kids hate it, are probably embarrassed by it, and many usually repeat it with their own children.
Goldstein came up with a list of techniques to help these psycho parents from losing their cool. They consist of relaxation techniques and such. I would like to submit my own list of things for control-oriented parents to think about before watching their kids on the field:
1) Lots of sports involve physical contact. You kid will probably fall, which means your kid will probably get hurt. Get over it. You can't put your kid in a bubble. If the opponent is actively trying to trip your kid, the ref will see it. So chill.
2) The coaches are volunteers and often are your fellow parents. Leave them alone. It's a thankless job. If you're such a hotshot expert, take your kid out and coach your own team. I bet you won't find many parents bringing their kids to your Nazi boot camp. Loser.
3) Your glory days are over. Maybe you were "da shit" in your prime. Take a good look at yourself. Just because you were never on a box of Wheaties doesn't mean you can make your kid into a superstar in order to compensate for your crushed ego and personal failures. You suck.
Oh, by the way, if you tried to go out onto the field to show us how it's done, you're either going to make a total ass of yourself or suffer a massive coronary. Go sit your fat ass down and shut up. Bringing that cinnamon roll to your mouth is the closest thing you'll ever come to "bending it like Beckham."