Friday Rant: "Shut the Hell Up!"

I've coached youth league soccer for close to five years now (damn, I'm getting old...) and have enjoyed every moment of it - except for something that irked me as I went to watch one of my soccer players play in a basketball game.

(Yes, I'm such the dedicated coach, aren't I?)

Parents.

Not just any parents, though. Specifically, the know-it-all parent.

The parent who would've been the coach...but, oh uhh cannot give up the time due to work...or, who's only there to help if necessary.

Yet, as soon as they are at their child's game, they turn into Bob Knight and are yelling instructions to not only their own kid (damn the scheme the coach has come up with), but at the other kids on the field/court as well.

I can look past this...to a certain extent.

I get ridiculously peeved, though, at the parent who is overly critical of their child as if he or she is the second coming of Ronaldinho or Tyler Hansbrough.

"You should've been there (kid's name)! That was your fault!"

No lie, I have been at games and heard parents tell their kid this. Tragic. That's when I turn around and say, "Dude, your fat-a**, slow, uncoordinated kid is not on the cusp of greatness! Take it easy!"

OK. I never say this...but I sure think it often when I am at games where a parent or parents are going nuts. These kids just want to have fun - that's the number one rule of every soccer team I've ever coached. These kids should not have to deal with the pressure of remembering what their coach has instructed them to do and live up to the (unrealistic) expectations of an overzealous parent.

I'm not trying to be harsh on this type of parent. I'm just trying to help them help their kid. If you're a parent who suffers from this problem, here's a tip that you should adhere to the next time you're at your kid's game: cheer for your kid and his team or simply...SHUT THE HELL UP!

It Reminded Me...

Growing up as a naive child, I always believed that if you did the right things then you would avoid bad situations.

This belief, however, was rocked in February of 1999 (damn, ten years ago...time flies) when two of my friends and I were pulled out of our vehicles with guns drawn on us, manhandled, and cursed out like you couldn't imagine.

It wasn't a carjacking. We were being apprehended by police officers, a special coalition of officers from around the state of Louisiana brought in to deal with crime during Mardi Gras.

Oh yeh. It was Mardi Gras weekend so we had hundreds of spectators watching us receive such special treatment on New Orleans' Canal Street.

We were stopped because we were suspected of stealing the van that we were riding in.

Eventually, the officers noticed the keys in the ignition and finally heard my friend who repeatedly said, "It's my mom's van - check the glove compartment!" We got up and were given no apology or anything. My friend politely said to the officers, "Look, you can't go around treating people like animals," to which he received this curt response: "Shut the f**k up and get the f**k up out of here!"

My friends (who are brothers) have a mom who knew it wasn't right for anyone - let alone, her sons - to get treated in such a way and she fought hard to, at the least, get us an apology. We eventually had a meeting in June with a higher-up with the Louisiana State Police, the organization at the head of the coalition.

He smiled and shook our heads. Had a look of sympathy when hearing us talk about how embarrassed we were to be viewed as common criminals by the hundreds of folks who passed us by on Canal Street and by the police who apprehended. He told us he would get to the bottom of this. Then, a month later, we each got a letter saying, "...the officers involved did nothing outside of standard procedures."

Standard Procedures!?

Since then, I have to admit, I've been terrified anytime I've gotten stopped by the police - and when I get asked to step out of the vehicle...you would think I was smuggling coke the way I get to shaking.

Specifically, I've gotten stopped the last two times I've been back home (on the same street...both for allegedly running through stop signs...don't think I did either time, but that's neither here or there).

Both times, I was asked to get out of the vehicle...and both times I began shaking like crazy. Can't help it.

In the first instance, Angie was with me along with my little brother and my brother-in-law. After answering every one of the NOPD officer's questions wrong apparently, he noticed me shaking and had to ask Angie (because, honestly, he wouldn't let me finish a sentence), "What is wrong with him!?" Angie told him the story and he (being the d**k that he was) said, "I aint them dudes (along with a lot other BS)...here's your ticket.".

The second time, while riding by myself on Christmas eve, I got stopped again by a couple of Military Police Officers (who are everywhere in New Orleans East) and again was asked to step out of the vehicle. Of course, the shaking drew attention (along with some hyperventilation...maybe it was the thick fog in the air) and I had to give them the very same rundown. They were very sympathetic and we even made a lot of small talk before they told me, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Jones!" and let me go.

I always try to convince myself that I've gotten over that situation and am proven wrong each time I am stopped. I had a spirit of optimism after my last run-in with the law, but as I watched the video of Oscar Grant getting apprehended by officers in the Bay Area...

...I thought about how one wrong, inadvertent move on that festive New Orleans night in February '99 could've been fateful for one of us.

Those fears that I continue to carry are real. They will probably never go away either.