It Should Have Been Easy

Yesterday, there was an unfortunate incident at Jacob's football game. No, not the loss, because sadly, we're kind of getting used to that. 

After a play, when a boy came off the field, one of our "coaches" was in this kid's face, hitting him in the chest and screaming repeatedly "What the hell were you thinking?!"  When later confronted by a parent about his behavior, this "coach's" answer was "This isn't tennis,"

This isn't a post about the coach's behavior.  Or about how if any parent with a video camera had captured this incident and posted it to YouTube that this guy's life would be forever changed.  It's not a post about how certain larger men with loud voices seem to believe they can do whatever they want without reprisal.  It's not a post about at what age are these boys not "kids", but "men".  It's not even a post about the differences between tennis and football, which I could undoubtedly explain until you all want to stab yourselves in the eye.

This is a post about being the person you thought you would be.

Because while this incident was happening, no one stood up and stopped it.  Not any of the parents on the sidelines. Not one of the other coaches.  No one.

And most importantly, not me.

There's an argument that could be made that the entire incident took place in the span of about 30 seconds.   There's also the argument to be made that I was so incredibly shocked by this behavior that by the time I gathered myself, it was already over.

But those are not acceptable excuses.  In those 30 seconds, this much larger man could have seriously injured this kid physically.  I'd wager that in those 30 seconds, this larger, older, supposedly wiser man probably did injure this kid emotionally. 

And I did nothing.

I always thought I'd be the kind of person that would step in a help a kid.  Yesterday, I was not that person.  And it makes me sick to my stomach to know that.  It's easy to imagine these situations and visualizing yourself doing the right thing.  But when it's happening in real time, as I found out yesterday, you can't slow it down and think of the perfect thing to say.  Sometimes all you do is sit staring, shocking and appalled.

I heard another parent say "It's not my place to step in. If it was my kid, I would have, but that's not my kid,"

I myself said to the parent next to me, "If that was my kid, we'd be on our way home right now,"

Only one parent said anything.  I honestly don't know if it was that boy's mother or not.  But she was the only one.

So what if that wasn't my kid?  In two weeks, both Mitch and I have to work and we'll have to ask another parent to take Jacob to the game.  We won't be there to see him play.  And if this coach did this to my kid, we wouldn't be there to stop it.  Can I count on another player's parents to step in?  When I didn't do the same thing?  Am I comfortable letting Jacob play in the game knowing this?  Right now, the answer is no. 

Yesterday, I was saddened and shocked by the behavior of a grown man taking an 8th grade football game too seriously.  But most importantly, I was saddened and shocked by my own behavior. 

Today, I vow to be more like the mom that stood up and said something. 

Because I can't change what happened yesterday, but I think what happened yesterday changed me.