Evil Softball Wench from Hell

This is my youngest daughter's second year playing league softball. She's a very talented catcher, just like her mother and her mother before her, and just like her big brother the All-Star. She also has her big brother's uncanny knack for knocking the crap out of just about any pitch a pitcher can throw.

I love the game, so I applied as Assistant Coach again this year. I can't explain the fundamental beauty of young girls just learning the basics of the game: the strength they find in their bodies, the courage they find in their hearts, the stick-to-it-ness they find amidst defeat. Watching their unbridled joy as they learn to hit is probably one of the most fulfilling things in my life. Even after my last daughter moves on from the 8-and-under league, I will probably continue to coach here, as I can't imagine anything more glorious than this, the formative years where they learn to really love the game.

It was, however, made very clear during the first two weeks of practice that the team's Head Coach doesn't want anything to do with me. If I coach a girl to do something a certain way, the Head Coach (we'll call her P) will stop what she is doing and immediately tell that same girl to do soemthing completely different - even if it's something that will hurt her, not help her. And over the past few weeks, it's gotten worse. Now, when she speaks to me, it's with an open contempt that can only be some sort of veiled provocation. Now, she'll take note of the girls that I've coached and rip them to shreds on the field.

At first I thought that I was just over-sensitive or just needing to assimilate more of what P's vision for the kids is. Every coach has his or her own style, and P is no exception. With the wealth of experience I have with the game, I already know that I can adjust to almost any coach's style. So I made it a point to really listen to P on the field, to really try to see where it is she wants this team to go. And after I did that for awhile, I tried to make suggestions that would fit that "style" as I saw it. I tried to tailor my coaching style to P's so the girls would have consistency and coaching that made sense to them. I've played this game my entire life, on TV even. It's like breathing to me. To think that my ability as a coach is not valued is inconceivable.

You only have to glance at the title of this post to know how that turned out.

It has now gotten to the point where I dread practice. It's so very difficult for me to keep my mouth shut when I don't need to open it and to keep it civil when I do. P has given the majority of the Assistant Coaching duties to her 14-year-old daughter, who is an experienced player in this league, but certainly no coach and certainly not an experienced player like I am. And now her 14-year-old daughter (let's call her T) has taken to bossing me around, not to mention doing it in pretty much the same tone of contempt as her mother does. So I spend most of my time coaching the catchers and shagging balls. At least she pretty much leaves me alone with the catchers.

But after Wednesday's scrimmage game and today's team meeting, I'm going to do something I've never, ever done. I'm going to quit. And I feel like shit about it, even though I know it's the right thing to do for the girls.

We have three experienced catchers on this team, though only one has any real understanding of the position and its responsibilities (which is my daughter). The other two have good intentions, but still don't understand that time is of the essence and allowing balls to get by them means runs scored (at this level, the majority of base running is done on steals due to missed pitches). We have no pitching talent whatsoever, which will be the team's downfall during the regular season unless one of the three potentials starts showing some promise soon. Very few of the girls have any fielding skills - which is normal and workable at this level.

However...

During the game on Wednesday, P kept yelling at my daughter (who was catching at the time) to "throw softly" to the pitcher, who isn't a very good fielder (that means she can't catch). I was behind the plate performing my only remaining job duty (coaching the catcher) and advised the catcher (yes, who just happened to be my daughter) that her throws were fine. At one point, after a textbook throw back to the pitcher (which was not caught, of course), I praised the catcher with a resounding "Great throw, Catch!!," only to hear P yell "Hey, SOFTER!!!"

I said, loud enough for P to hear, "That throw was perfect. Keep it up."

P signalled time out and walked to my daughter to tell her to manage her throwing. I walked over to tell P to manage her pitcher, but thought better of it (it's the kids that will pay for this, you know????) and just patted the catcher on the back and said "Good job." Later, of course, I told my daughter that she is to throw just like she knows she is supposed to and as long as she is accurate, the Coach will have nothing to complain about. When P told me later that I need to "support" her on the field because she's the coach and "there's nothing you can do about it, Missy" (this came complete with a threatening stance and finger-pointing-at-the-chest), I told her that her players will not "rise to the occasion," they will sink to the level of their training which, right now, is catering to the lowest common denominator. And I absolutely will not support that kind of coaching. Ever.

I also advised her that her stance and gesturing appeared to be purposefully threatening and that she may want to rethink the way she communicates with me - or anyone else - as I'll be paying very close attention from now on.

Oh, I can't tell you how badly I wanted to put her facedown in the dirt. I hope - for both of our sakes! - there isn't a next time.

Today, we had a team meeting wherein we were assembling our team's banner. Today was slightly better, as P chose to just ignore me, even when I was speaking directly to her. Some other poor mom took on the translator's role, looking fearsome confused the entire time. It wasn't until T took it upon herself to start answering for her mother - in the most disrespectful manner possible - that I truly decided that I'd had enough. I'll take that crap from her mother - for the girls' sake! For the team!! - but that's as far as it goes.

I hate the thought of quitting, but whatever this enmity is it's not going to get better and it's not fair to the girls. I'm hoping that the moms and daughters will still call me - as some have done in the past few weeks - to clarify issues or ask for personalized coaching on the side. P may be a nasty-ass, troll-looking, loud-mouthed Evil Softball Wench from Hell, but she can't keep people from consulting with me on their own time. And she can't stop me from quitting - meaning she won't have an Assistant Coach (her daughter will nto be allowed to coach on the field during games).

Now, if P has something to say to me, she'll be saying it to ME and not to the Asst. Coach. And, as just a "regular mom," I can say anything I want from the stands. As loud as I want. As often as I want. To whomever I want.


Follow me??


Next year, I think I'll apply for a Head Coaching position.