The Exhausted Dad: Different personalities on the sidelines
I take pride in being a respectful member of an audience.
As a moviegoer, I silence and stay off my phone, and I don’t converse with other moviegoers. Even when I tell my kids in the theater to be quiet, I tell them with sign language and, rarely, an extremely hushed whisper.
At school concerts and plays, when appropriate, I clap at a moderate tone and only “Woo!” in rare instances. I want to support my kids, of course, but I also need to protect my own social anxiety and avoid all unnecessary attention from fellow parents.
In these first two categories, generally, I think most parents behave similarly. Yes, some people are “Woo!” people who “Woo!” more often than the rest of us. That’s OK. My wife is a “Woo!” person. She’ll “Woo!” at an appropriate moment just because nobody else in the audience wooed. It doesn’t even need to be a “Woo!” for our kid. It’s a community “Woo!”
At sporting events, parents behave in divergent ways. Some cheer loudly and constantly. Some record every second of every game. Some just sit there, quietly scrolling TikTok, and only pay attention when their kid is doing something interesting.
All more than acceptable behaviors, in my opinion.
Then we move into another category of parents … and unfortunately, it’s a subset that can be hostile and uncomfortable toward coaches, referees/umpires and other families.
Fortunately, I haven’t personally seen much of this behavior, though we’ve all heard horror stories or have seen some viral social media posts about parents flying off the rails at T-ball games.
I do, however, have some questions about another type of sideline parent. I’m talking about the boisterous “coach” parents who holler a constant stream of game advice at their children while sitting so far away that it’s unlikely the kids can even hear the tips.
To be clear, this is NOT the same as a parent who hollers an occasional “LOOK ALIVE!” or “DEFENSE!” Those are general ideas that can be understood by anyone who hears them. I can even accept an occasional simple command directed at one single player because I think a kid can process a single simple tip, assuming they can hear it.
Acceptable examples: “Eyes on the ball, Suzie!” Or “Get back on defense, Phil!”
Then there are parents who are, I guess, full fledged coaches who either A) aren’t allowed to be the actual coach for some reason, or B) forgot where the coaches are supposed to sit during the game.
Recently, I’ve seen a few Phil Jacksons sitting about six rows up from the floor of my daughter’s seventh grade, JV basketball game. I’m sitting a row or two in front of these guys, and even I don’t catch everything they’re saying.
“Put your hands up, Suzie! Right foot pivot! Circle the floor! Don’t let them box out the (INAUDIBLE)!”
I’ve watched a lot of basketball in my life, and I don’t understand 50% of it.
Seriously, I’m not judging. I just want to understand the thought process.
I suspect their kid probably would understand more than me … but I honestly don’t think she could possibly hear these full-fledged sentences. Not over the noise of all that incessant dribbling, anyway.
(Just my opinion, but a few rule changes here and there would make basketball a much more relaxing sport to watch. All the whistling and dribbling and buzzers … unnecessary.)
Another interesting subset of parent I don’t understand: The guy in the far back of the gym who keeps hollering incorrect information about the game’s scoring and timekeeping.
“That was a three!”
Nope, definitely not. In fact, I’ve yet to see a kid even attempt a shot within 8 feet of the three-point line.
“Hey, you gave those points to the wrong team!”
Actually, the scorekeeper is 12 years old and can get a little behind sometimes. He added the last two baskets (one for each team) at the same time. You’d have noticed that if you weren’t sitting in the farthest, highest corner of the bleachers. Seriously, there’s like 20 people here. Sit closer if you have something to say!
“There should be 12 seconds more on the clock.”
Hey, guy, the score is 54-12. We’ve all been here long enough.
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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer, full-time student, and parent to four kids, ages 6-12. He does not offer sporting advice to his children during games because he is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.
The Exhausted Dad