The 10 Parents You Meet at Your Kids Sports Events

Goggles on. Ready to swim about 15 meters and call it a day.

Goggles on. Ready to swim about 15 meters and call it a day.

With six kids in my house, I’ve attended my fair share of children’s sports events.  Swim meets, basketball games, soccer matches, all day track meets.  Hell, my oldest daughter is in “competitive marching band”—I’m willing to bet that you didn’t even know that was a thing. Well it is a thing.  And it’s painful. And loud.  But like all of the other competitive events I have attended as a parent, there is usually as much to watch in the stands as there is on the playing field.

There are some interesting people that attend these events. And by “interesting” I mean, whacko.  And stressed out. And loud. These parents seem to show up just to compete with the action on the field.  In other words, I LOVE THESE CRAZY PARENTS.

Do you know the type of parents I’m talking about? I bet you’ve seen a few of these at your kids sports event.

Here are just a few examples:

Super Vieny Sports Dad:  He hangs out at the sideline, although he has been specifically asked NOT TO DO SO by the coaches.  And also the police. He yells at no one in particular and seems, very close to having a heart attack at any minute, just having to contend with the state of the play on the field. His face is always red and sometimes he throws things (like an orange cone or a coach) in anger. No one is really sure if he has a kid on the team, but boy, is he stressed out by the way the Mini-Mites are playing tee-ball this spring.

Wait, There’s A Game Going On? Mom:  Every other mom is wearing yoga pants and an Old Navy hoodie, but this woman has her short-shorts on and her hair done.  She paints her nails during the game. Ask her what the score is and she will give you a blank stare. Um, they’re winning, I think?  Or maybe losing? Not sure. Ask her what Zack’s daddy’s name is and she will pull up his Facebook profile faster than you can say “cougar”.  Rawr. And speaking of that…

Zach’s Daddy: Does he always wear muscle shirts? Or is every shirt he wears a muscle shirt because of his massive, hard, bulging, extremely large biceps?  How long have Zach’s Daddy and Zach’s Mommy been divorced?  Do you think he needs someone to carpool with? I feel like I should ask if there’s anything I can do to help. I’m going in. How’s my makeup?

The Mom of The Kid Who Always Gets Hurt:  You really do feel bad for her. No matter what her son is doing, even if he’s in right field catching butterflies, he always gets injured.  It’s never serious, usually a minor injury like a hang nail or a very, very lightly skinned elbow. She literally has him out there in a hockey mask (running the 400 meter relay) but somehow he always, always find a way…

JoHanna’s Aunt:  She was on the rowing team in college and although she has yet to be “blessed with any ankle biters” of her own (her words), she has made poor little JoHanna the poster child for all of her unfulfilled sports fantasies. Track, fencing, spring board diving and taekwondo—-JoHannas aunt…er JoHanna does it all.

Overprepared Mom: Did you forget to bring sunscreen? A hair tie? 17 oranges? Good news! Overprepared Mom has them in that super big purse of hers.  Bad news! This mom exists only to remind your own children just how much you suck at this parenting thing. Which you do, obviously. Just ask your kids (she already did).

Dad Who Knows Every Kids Name:  Most of the time you can’t even recall which one of your kids you brought to the ball field with you, but this guy knows the name of literally every kid on the team.  “That’s how we do it, Kevin!”, “Atta girl, Sarah!”. After awhile you just think he’s making up names. “Way to go, Bernice!” “That’ll show ’em, Fritz!”.

The Parents Who Think They’ve Raised the Next LeBron James: Their kid can’t dribble the ball and every time he has to shoot a free throw, there is an audible groan from the stands. But his parents can’t see him tripping on the court. They come to the games wearing shirts they made in his honor, holding banners with his number on them in puffy paint. No one is sure that these parents even understand the rules of the game, that’s how happy they seem to be when their son gets a penalty. Go Byron! They shout and start butt-bumping each other in pride. Strangely, after awhile their enthusiasm catches on in the crowd.  Suddenly everyone is shouting “Go Byron!” and the kid hasn’t even stepped one foot on the court since last September.

The Mom Watching Everyone Else So She Can Mock Them in an Article for Everyone’s Enjoyment:  Oh, right. That’s me.

Mom Who Is On Her Phone Reading Articles Because the Game is SO FREAKING Boring:  Did you really think you weren’t going to be on my list? 🙂

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I sat through 87 weeks of golf and all I got—er HE got—was this tiny medal.

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