I got the strangest and most amazing phone call Saturday afternoon. When we started baseball practice this spring JAM and I were so excited. New coach, yours truly helping out again, JAM didn't lose much over the winter, just good times ahead. Then, he showed up. Again. Remember the coach from hell? Yup, back with his poor kid who obviously doesn't want to be anywhere near a baseball field. His "hot Latino blood" - direct quote from his wife as she apologized for him last year - overflowing at his kid and others. I feel so sorry for that poor boy. He either has no aptitude for the game or he just doesn't want to play with his father around so he does absolutely nothing on the field. Just a bad situation.
Until blissful Saturday afternoon. A little while after JAM and I got back from practice (from which Idiot Coach and his boy were absent) Good Coach calls me up and asks if "anything happened" between Idiot Coach and myself. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't inviting Idiot Coach over for tea and crumpets but I made a concerted effort to be as polite and accepting of him as possible this year. I've said hello while he's ignored me (we didn't leave last year on the best of terms after I had to tell him to stop yelling at kids all the time and to do something to help the kids other than stand there with the score book in his hands during games). I've made pains to help his kid try to get better without screaming at him. I just tried to act like he was any other person, not someone with whom I haven't had the best relationship with. Clean slates you know? Even if it is obvious you are trying to project your unfulfilled baseball dreams onto a kid who doesn't care a lick about it.
So back to the phone call. After Good Coach asks me if anything happened I'm wracking my brain. Did something happen and I not notice? Did I say anything that I shouldn't have? Did my general lack of understanding social norms come into play here? Nope, I couldn't come up with anything. Then, I remembered something - something so insignificant that I forgot about it immediately after it happened. IC (Idiot Coach - my fingers are getting tired) butted in while I was attempting to help out a kid totally new to baseball try to become a pitcher.
Side note - yes, we have a team made up of 15 kids either totally new to this level of baseball or totally new to baseball in general. JAM is going to be a 9 y.o shortstop and GC's kid will be an 8 y.o. third baseman. Yup, it's going to be a banner year.So IC butts in while I'm trying to help this kid and he starts explaining how the kid needs to stay balanced while he pitches "otherwise you're going to fall on your ass." I'm sorry, WHAT? You say this to a 9 y.o. shrinking violet of a kid? I interrupted and told him to watch the language, and I thought we moved on from there because he immediately corrected himself and we went on with helping the kid.
That's it. That's the only thing I can think of. Honest. So imagine my surprise when GC tells me that IC's wife called the commissioner and asked that her son be traded to another team because IC and I can't get along. At first I laughed because dude, you've got to make your wife make the call? Then, I was mad because I've really made an effort here. Then, it dawned on me. It must be my birthday! We're going to lose both IC and his kid (who can't throw or catch) who we were going to have to play somewhere in the field. It was impossible to keep the smile off my face. It grew even bigger when GC confided that he wasn't the least bit upset at the development.
Goodbye IC, I hope all the best for you and your poor little boy. I just look forward to seeing you on the other sideline this year.