Gimme a Break!

You would have thought we played an official NBA team last night.

Coop on the free throw line

Three years ago, we decided to move little guy from our local recreational basketball league to a competitive team. After one of our games, little guy and I went into the bathroom to change his clothes. Upon exiting, the opposing team's coach approached me.  She told me she liked Coop's size and asked if we would like to join her team. Right in front of our coach. Class move.

I thanked her for the offer and politely declined.  Then somehow, she got my email.

Over the course of the next two years she barraged me. I explained to her I wasn't interested- we loved our coach, our team and weren't leaving.

After our season ended, we decided it was to much on him and moved him back to rec. She continued to push me.

She was an ex college player and was living vicariously through her players. It was so obvious.  She rattled her resume to me every time we spoke.  As if I care.  I'm far more interested in the way you address my son than I am in what you did 20 years ago.

Flash forward to 2012.  We joined a competitive team again.  This time I did a ton of research on every Division 1, 5th grade team in the Kansas City area.  Some were cut from the list quickly if I already knew them.  And her team was one of them.

Now.... we play her.  That's almost worse to be honest.  She has truly taught her boys straight up street bully ball.  She screams from the sideline (standing, of course) the entire game.  If a referee calls a foul on one of her boys, she screams at them, too.  She complains loudly that our team (and every other team, for that matter) are "dirty players".  ESPECIALLY if she loses.

We drew the short straw and played her this weekend.  The first time we faced them this season we won.  We certainly weren't going into the game assuming we would though - her boys are tough.  This go around, they won by about the same we beat them by the last time.

But it wasn't easy.  Not just the playing, either.  Her parents are a complete nightmare.  They scream at our boys the entire game.  Through free throws, while running down court, when shooting.  It doesn't really matter.  They act just like the leader of their team.  Hmmm.. I wonder why?

I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone last night.  Parents were yelling at each other, kids were mouthing off, the coaches were arguing.... it was not my idea of a good time.  As soon as the game ended, my heart palpitations finally slowed down.

Today, however, we beat both teams in our pool.  Our reward?  We have to play her again tomorrow.

Ugh.

I honestly am not sure I have enough Xanax to get through the game.  She stresses me out that bad.

The best though.... at the end of our game against her Friday night, right at the buzzer, one of her bully kids slammed into Coop (on purpose, I swear).  He took an elbow to the face, falling and bouncing his head off the court floor.  It was LOUD.  He was not happy.  After coach and I got him up off the floor  (making sure his eyes weren't dilated), she tried to come over and shake Coop's hand to say good game.  It is the nice thing to do, after all.

Not gonna happen.  Hubs was in between the two of them faster than anything I've ever seen.  Mr. Protective.  I barely caught what was happening and just had to laugh.

Wish me luck, friends.  You all should know by now how much I love confrontation.  Should be a great game tomorrow.  Thank God we just got paid - we may need bail money.

Have a great Saturday night!

Jen