Parents (please enjoy the story at the end... we do win a few...

I have heard it said that any comment preceded with the words, "bless his heart" might be less than honest. I took it to mean "I like this person, but you know how he/she can be...." You know, like that ornery "Uncle Bob" who is so negative and loud... bless his heart. A true attempt at being understanding. Parents sometimes fall into that category. I mean, I have parents, you have parents, and we love them! I have become friends with some of my athlete's parents and they are great and reliable people; people I will go to my grave believing that if I'm ever in need, they would be there. They are people that I trust their intellect, their intentions, their loyalty to our friendship, and their motivation. I have also come to know some parents in my tenure as a coach and athletic administrator that have an agenda. They display the persona that they understand my position, care about me personally, certainly care about the program, and even understand the difficulty that a coach faces in the effort to not only be fair but appear to be fair. They "display" this. It soon often becomes clearly evident, when dealing with this type of parent, that they have "tunnel vision." They want what's best for their child.... AND shouldn't they? I'm a parent. I want what's best for my child. The large majority of parents want what is best for their child. So what's the problem? A good example of the problem parent was given to me by my good friend and former K.H.S. baseball coach, David Denny, who said "those are the parents that want the eight very best players on the team on the field... along with their kid... all the time!" I'm certainly not going to conclude that there is a specific scientifically proven method of dealing with parents. They are all different, as we all are. There are the over-protective type who refuse to trust the judgment of the coach. Hard to argue with someone who is just insuring the safety of their child. There are those that live vicariously through their child. I know you have heard of them and they do exist... mass quantity. I never really found it difficult to deal with them. Occasionally even looked forward to such opportunities. I suppose that's because I thought most of them were idiots and as long as they were alive I was not the stupidest person alive. There are those that demand playing time (yet another category of mass quantity. The list is truly endless. Actually, this topic is so broad one blog can't begin to really do it justice, so I'll close with a simple accounting of one dad in the last category I mentioned (my son isn't getting enough playing time). This happened during my Athletic Director days. I was sitting in my office and a dad 'pops in.' He was professionally dressed. Did not bother with introductions. As I reflect now I think he just wanted to get to the point. He quickly sat down and immediately pulled his check book and pen from his pocket. The conversation went something like this:
dad: (with check book open and pen resting in the "amount box") "Okay. How much will it cost me?"
me: "What... how much will what cost you."
dad: "Look I don't have time for this. I know how it works. So how much will it cost me?"
me: "Really sir. Who are you and how much will "what" cost you?"
dad: "I'm a busy man. I'm the CEO of a multi-million dollar business. I don't have time to banter back and forth with you. How much will it cost for my son to start?"
me: (I must admit that at that point I had developed a goal of keeping this busy CEO in my lowly office for as long as I could) Well, it looks like you really don't know how it works (sure fire path to confrontation... challenge their knowledge/intellect), because playing time is not for sale... and even if it was I would have to know who you were in order to "make it happen," and I don't yet know who you are (another path to conflict... diminish their significance).
dad: (Obviously miffed) Don't play games with me. We both know that you know who I am and what I'm capable of, so just give me the damn number. Name your price!
me: (I so wanted to say "a million dollars ought to do it" but alas I refrained)
Sir. I have not used, nor will I use profanity during our conversation, and I would appreciate it if you would control that as well. Thank you. Now, you can put your check book away. It is not going to do you any good unless you want to make a donation to the Humble ISD Education Foundation which is tax deductable. If you will do so and tell me who you are and who your child is and in which school he / she attends and which sport he / she participates and who his / her coach is we might be able to do something constructive.
dad: G---d--- it! Don't talk down to me. I own a million of you. Don't insult me by trying to tell me that I can't buy playing time. I can buy ANYTHING!
me: (okay, I interrupted and the smart ass came out) Could you buy some manners, please?
dad: (slams his fist on my desk) How dare you! I'll have your job.
me: (again the calm smart ass) You wouldn't like it I have to deal with too many unreasonable parents.
dad: (silently sits down... put his face in the palms of his hands and weeps) I'm a real jack-ass huh.
me: (I should have been more compassionate, but) well it's apparent you can be.
dad: Look my kid comes home crying every day because he (we're getting somewhere... I know it's a boy) says the coaches hate him, are mean to him and that's why he never plays.
me: Sir, you just opened the door for us to provide you son with some answers. Now we can't do anything until you have spoken with the coach. Have you done so?
dad: no
me: Well let's call him, put him on speaker so you can express your concerns. I'll stay in the room in case the jack-ass reappears.
dad: Thanks and by the way I'm sorry.
me: That's okay, but if you want to write me a check for anything else we might be able to figure something out.
dad: (laughs) No, that would probably get you and I both in trouble.