April 13, 2005
Coach

So this is what its come to.  Parents of a Genoa, Ohio basketball and softball player are suing her high school coach because he yells at his players.  To quote Charley Brown, “Good grief.” 

While an article in our local broadsheet a couple of weeks back made us keenly aware greedy corporations and urban legends are reducing the income level of trial lawyers to the point where they’re in danger of being reduced to standing at the intersection of 1^st and Grand holding a hand lettered sign reading “Will Sue 4 Food”, is the financial horizon so bleak that a barrister would take on a case asking that a “cease and desist” be issued to keep a coach from yelling?  You might as well prosecute a toy poodle for barking, take a Rockies reliever to court for blowing a ballgame in the late innings, or sue a “You Said It” contributor for having a cogent thought.  C’mon folks, for most coaches, yelling is a part of their DNA. 

What’s a coach to do when frustration reaches the boiling point?  Benching a player only results in late night phone calls from parents at the high school level, college players transferring to another school, and angry agents ragging on the owner in the pros.  Yelling is a coach’s only option, what with flogging being against the law and PETA preventing one from kicking the family dog. 

It’s true most lady athletes don’t respond well to yelling.  I learned this the hard way when a weeping right fielder on our girls 11-12 year old softball team begged, “Don’t holler at me about not throwing behind the runner, I’m concentrating on catching the ball and can only do one thing at a time.”  

Another game found us in the final inning when the tying run was thrown out at third base.  “Slide!” I screamed, “slide” but the runner came into the base standing up.  “Your out!” said the umpire.  “Didn’t I say slide?”  “Well” the runner huffed, “My mom just washed my uniform before the game and told me not to get it dirty.”  

Then there was the game where the center fielder turned up missing in action.  Deep into the ballgame our team was down by a run, had runners on second and third with two out and the centerfielder, our best batter, due up.  But she was nowhere to be found, “Where’s our hitter?” I yelled from the 3^rd base-coaching box thinking bathroom or refreshment stand.  “She left for dance class.” came the shout from the dugout. And coaches aren’t supposed to scream?  

True not all coaches yell.  My high school coach wasn’t a screamer.  A classmate’s e-mail this week told of Coach Smith passing away at the age of 81.  At tiny Cambridge, Illinois High he coached football, basketball and track.  And his teams won a lot more games than they lost.  One of the reasons for his success was he never did play me much.   I whined to my Dad about being a senior and still spending a lot of time picking splinters out of my backside from sitting on the bench during basketball season.  His response?  “Well let’s see, you’re short, slow, can’t shoot and have a bad attitude. I’m surprised you ever get to play.”