
Man, it was bullshit.
I was just sitting at the picnic table, and here comes park security, on his stupid little go-kart. I just acted like he wasn’t even there until he stopped the engine.
“Howdy,” he said.
Howdy? Really? Pendejo.
Still a coach. Still a daddy. Just not Coach Daddy anymore.
Schmucks. How easily can you pick one out of a crowd?
I got the chance to examine the whole culture of Schmuckosity this week in a guest post on Marcia’s blog at Menopausal Mom. Because you know, schmucks and menopause go hand in hand.
It was an honor to broach the subject on her page. I keyed in on the sideline variety of schmuck, the kind of dude your kid might get saddled with as a coach. I’ve coached against a couple.
It’s hard to know which I dislike more. Is it the kind of dude who lets one kid score seven goals against my U6 Poisonous Tree Frogs (how’s that for the nickname of the century?). I had a talkin’ to with that clown in the handshake line.