Ain't misbehavin'

On my way from the car to the field, I’m accosted by a deranged mother.

‘Josh can’t practice tonight,’ she practically shouts.

‘Eh, okay. Is he sick?’ I ask.

‘No, he’s not sick.’ More anger in her voice. ‘He’s just misbehaving at school.’

‘And, what’s that got to do with soccer?’

‘His punishment is he’s not allowed to practice this whole week.’

I pause for a second, unsure what to do in the face of such warped logic. And then I see Josh, staring out at me from the backseat of his mother’s car, like a forlorn prisoner on the way to jail. Well, if jails used 2011 Range Rover Sports to transport sad 10 year old boys to the big house.

‘So,’ I continue, ‘your reaction to his poor behavior in school is to stop him playing a game he loves?’

‘Yes,’ she says, sounding slightly taken aback by my unimpressed tone.

‘Well, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You are only going to make him angrier and he’s going to take that anger out on the teacher. Here is where he lets off steam. Any child shrink will tell you that.’ Just to annoy her more I give Josh a big thumbs-up as I speak.

‘Well, I never,’ she says before stomping away, apparently too angry to continue the debate. Upon reaching her suburban tractor, she stops, turns around and delivers her final piece, very obviously for Josh’s benefit. ’Since he’s going to miss two practices I’ve told him you will  be starting him on the bench for Saturday’s game.’

I shake my head while smiling at the sheer stupidity of this bizarre brand of parenting. As if I’m really going to bench one of my dirtiest players just because he’s tormenting his teacher in class every day. What kind of lesson would that teach the boy?