By: Angela Gillaspie © September 2003

Hoo boy, I'm out of my league - the youth football league, that is. Last year, my oldest son played for the first time and we painted our faces, cars, and shirts with his jersey number, and enjoyed the season. This year, my six-year-old son wanted to be involved in the fun, so I signed both boys up for the Junior 1 and Junior 3 teams, respectively, figuring that during their off days, they could tackle each other and leave their sister and baby brother alone.

After the first week of practice (in 95-degree heat, five days a week, for two and a half hours each day), my younger son asked to quit. The first weeks of practice are usually intense, so we asked him to stick it out. Another week went by and he begged to quit, saying, "I hate football. I don't know what to do and the coach yells at me all the time."

Concerned, I stopped swapping casserole recipes with the other moms and paid closer attention to my son on the field. After a few more practices, I agreed to let him quit. In three weeks, he went from liking to play to I'd-rather-eat-a-lizard-than-play. I partially blamed this on poor teaching techniques and bad communication skills of his coaches, plus his inability to understand strategy and handle the frustrations of football. My husband reluctantly agreed, but reserved official comment fearing that his status as a chest-thumping football dad would be tarnished.

Myself, I'm convinced that many coaches are trained in the Good-Ol'-Boy School of Football where the following courses are offered:

• Yelling 101: Being Heard - Your Voice Can Move Mountains (and Bladders)
• Yelling 102: 1001 Easy to Remember Insults and Gender-Specific Stereotypes
• Intimidation 100: Perfecting the Don't-Mess-with-Me Glare
• Intimidation 101: How to Get Your Way Using Barks, Grunts, and Gnashing Teeth
• Intimidation 102: Rolling Eyes and Running Laps - Breaking Spirits with Sarcasm and Exercise
• Intimidation 103: Throwing Your Clipboard with Accuracy
• Tactical 200: 37 Complicated Plays that Only Math Majors Understand
• Tactical 202: Losers Are Wussies

Sure, there are exceptions - like a couple of my oldest son's coaches - but many coaches act like pompous bullies. My husband disagreed, and with a look of pure affection said, "My coaches were great - even when they made us run seven sets of 50-yard suicide sprints up hill both ways in the driving rain."

Umm, yeah. Sure. Anyway, as a mom, I had certain expectations from the football program. These included:

1. My child should learn the fundamentals. The coaches need to have a grasp of the rules, tactics, and skills of the game. All those hours they spent eating cheese curls, drinking beer, and watching college, high school, and professional football should help immensely.
2. My child should learn the value of fitness. Exercise (running laps, push ups, etc.) shouldn't be used as punishment because kids will eventually resent physical activity - something I do every time I get on the treadmill and watch my thighs flap around.
3. My child should have fun. I signed him up for football so that he could play, learn more about the game, and wear those neat pads. Although football is a tough sport, the kids shouldn't cry at practice unless they're physically hurt or they're overcome with joy. Also, practice times shouldn't end so late; kids need time for dinner, homework, fighting with siblings, and sleep.
4. My child should participate at a level that matches his maturity and ability. Children need to be spoken to on a level that they understand, you know, the coach needs to choose his terminology - often avoiding vernacular - to be age appropriate and not obfuscate communication, therefore further ubiquitous elucidation on topics that the child deems ambiguous increases cognitive retention. Ahem.
5. My child should learn good sportsmanship. When the coach loses control by yelling, calling names, and throwing things when he's frustrated, he teaches the kids how to act like professional wrestlers - a personality trait that will get them into trouble when they're older and begin dating.
6. My child should be respected. Coaches need to learn how to motivate the kids using respect, not fear to get what they want. I don't have the money for a therapist to help my boys get over their fear of overweight middle-aged balding men that yell a lot.

On the other hand, my husband had a different set of expectations from the football program. These included:

1. My son should hit hard - it makes me proud and it's cool.
2. My son should like it - it's a guy thing.
3. My wife should shut up and not get my son black-listed - it's another guy thing.

Nope, I'm not going to win this argument because I happen to live in the Deep South where football is a religion and only the men have the key to the church doors. So I guess our six-year-old will get another year of toughening up before he tries football again.

Speaking of being tough, football coaches may be fearsome, but nothing's as frightening as the wrath of a ticked off Southern Momma with a hickory switch.

Be afraid.