Athletic Supporter
I'm sorry, but there's something wrong when you're sitting among a group of parents at a freshman football game, at 3:30 in the afternoon, and somebody reeks of alcohol.
When it's coming out of your pores? Yeah, we can smell you.
Dude, show some class; stay home. Seriously. You're just embarrassing your kid.
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Because I have wise blogfriends who call me on my shit, I am adding the following addendum regarding Mr. MadDog: at least the guy showed up. And maybe his kid was just glad to have him there. More than I can say for a lot of parents ...
13 comments:
Yeah, that used to be me. Doesn't mean he was drinking before the game, btw, He could have just been your run of the mill alcoholic. We can smell that way for days after a bender, even when we haven't been drinking. I haven't had to douse myself with cologne in 15 years now to hide that smell (by the grace of goddess). Yeah, humiliating for the kid, but he might just be proud that his drunk ass father actually made it out of the house and to the ball field this time. I'm sure the kid has had many more disappointing moments than this... Sad and familiar. Hope he finds AA.
Having a couple of lushes for parents, I have to agree with Tater. It may not be pretty, but at least he's actually showing up for this type of stuff.
Guys: good point -- I hadn't thought of that. I think it was more surprising because it was so early in the day. But yeah, at least he was there.
Maybe it's the paramedic in me, because I've seen it too many times, but if this gentleman had been drinking, I'm just hoping he was walking and not driving.
Don't you hate it when people call you on your shit? It's annoying.
Of course, since I've made a CAREER of calling people on their shit, I can't really talk.
But still, it smarts.
(I would have been annoyed, too.)
Al: I think he was with his wife.
Red: No -- truly, I wasn't annoyed at all. That's how you learn, right? Especially when the calling comes from people whose opinions I respect, and who know something about the shit on which they're calling me. (see how far I go in order not to end a sentence with a preposition? Sad) I like it when people say what they think -- beats the hell out of behind-the-back drama bullshit, and I learn something in the process.
My dad coached my Little Teams for a couple of years...Drunk.
Mostly people didn't notice,never having seen him sober.
Cowbell: That's because you're a better person than I. Don't get me wrong; I depend on good people to be honest with me and call me on my shit ... and eventually, I appreciate it; I truly do. But those teachable moments, in the moment, aren't nearly as much fun as when I'm the one getting SCHOOLED, to turn a phrase.
(Le sigh.)
Sling: that's actually pretty impressive, coaching in that state.
Red: I hear you - no fun being schooled, ha! I guess it depends on the situation, and how it's done. And the motives of the "schooler", too. In this situation I didn't feel like it was a schooling, but reading the comments, it hit me - wow, I shot my mouth off without thinking of the other side, didn't I? So yeah, in that case, I'd rather be told, but it's not so altruistic ... I just don't want to look ignorant next time. Looking like an ass? Worse than being schooled!
You, my dear, could never look like an ass, IMHO. I wasn't trying to school you, it's just that your description of the drunk, took me back to my own drinking days. Believe you me, I get judgemental as hell at times with people that sit next to me on the train ride to work, reeking like a freshly opened bottle of hootch. I was offering up my own history, remembering all the important events in my family's life that I missed, because I was either too drunk or stoned to give a shit at the time...
Tater & EG: Hope you didn't take my comments the wrong way ... you made really good points, which Cowbell accepted gracefully. It is interesting, tho', in my line of work, I'm called up to turn on the light for people who don't even know they're sitting in the dark -- and after a while, I forget that I have blind spots of my own, and no matter how nicely this is pointed out to me, or how much I love the person doing the pointing, it's a rude awakening. None of us are nearly as smart as we think we are, and the wisest among us simply know what they don't know ...
Red,
I was devastated by your comments to Cowbell, and doubt I can ever forgive you. I'm thinking the only way I can overcome my disappointment in you, is if you agree to make it to Boston for the Blogger meet up on the weekend of Nov.2, and share a bowl of chowda with me. My fragile heart is in your hands. Be gentle?
Hee hee!
Of course I didn't take it the wrong way my friend, but did want to clarify why Ms. Cowbell's post resonated with me. You have nothing less than my adoration for your intellect, and your fantastic essays. Hug it out?
Red/Tater: (as opposed to Idaho white 'tater, har har) Ooh, this is interesting - no wonder I have ecrushes on you guys. Oh, trust me, I can look like an ass. Why do you think I have self-imposed 2-shot limit with tequila? But no, like I said in my last comment, I didn't at all feel like your/Evil-G's comments were a schooling -- it just made me (suddenly) look at it a different way. Which is one thing I love about the whole blogging thing.
I see what Red is saying, and have felt that way in past situations, but this wasn't one of them.
Oh, and Tater, you made me literally LOL, your last comment to Red -- for a split second I was like, "What?!?" Oh, and I totally want pictures of you guys hugging it out over chowda. Seriously.
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