Mildly Unattractive Parent Syndrome

While I have at time suffered bouts of Mildly Unattractive Parent Syndrome it has never developed into full blown Ugly Parent Syndrome.  This is because I am a pacifist (coward) and the thought of actually abusing someone else verbally and inciting them to retaliate physically fills me with dread.  Also, my children would be mortified and they would never allow me to escalate my behaviour to a degree that it could be classified as Ugly Parent Syndrome.

My daughters were very clear about what I could and couldn't do as a spectator.  They both grudgingly allowed me to call out supportive and what I felt were VERY HELPFUL tips and suggestions as to how they and their team mates could improve their performance and snatch victory for their side.  If I sometimes got carried away or was drawing too much attention to myself, and by association, to them, then I was firmly told to zip it.

This mainly happened at netball, a game for which I feel I have a competent understanding of the rules and tactics.  Only my closest and most long standing associates will know this (because I am not one to blow my own trumpet) but I was an integral part of the 1980 Premiership A (Reserve) team from my home town.  The beautiful gold (plated) medallion I was awarded would no doubt be displayed in pride of place on my mantel even now if it had not been purged in The Great Garage Cleansing of 1983 (conducted by my Dad who was sick of storing my stuff).  I mention this high point in my sporting career to illustrate that I have the credentials to call out constructive criticism and messages of support to my children and their friends.  I also bought the oranges nearly every week, so that in itself gives me permission.

However, once I accompanied my younger daughter to a hockey carnival in a much larger town.  She and some of her friends played in an Association team with people from our district who we did not know.  All the parents had to help and I was named Team Manager.  This was very unsettling for me because I have never played hockey at all except for a horrible three week period in year 11.  There is too much running in hockey for me and I was scared of the stick and indeed the ball.  But I digress.

To combat my feelings of insecurity I acted on the adage If you dress for the part; you are the part.  Garbed in my number one track suit and dragging my newly purchased Ripcurl sports bag I felt completely able to call out hockey tips such as, "Stick Down!"' and other pearls of hockey wisdom which I have since forgotten. Those were exciting times and I wanted to share this experience with my child, to facilitate her development as a player and as a person.  I may have got carried away with the excitement of it all and if I did I was TOLD by my daughter that she didn't appreciate my exuberance, so I zipped it.

When my girls have played sport in the city I have been warned that I am not to speak at all.  So I stand there in supportive and reflective silence, mainly thinking about what the other mothers are wearing.  It's much more enjoyable really.

My eyes had never been opened to the reality of Ugly Parent syndrome until about a year ago.  I went to watch my nephew's game in an Auskick competition.   He is a very coordinated and focused on the ball kind of player.  His proud father is interested and, like me, calls out encouragement and support.  But not all parents are like this.  I became aware of another father who was consistently calling out loudly to his son in an irritated tone.  The boy was aged about five or six and was more interested in putting his hands through the elastic on the bib he was wearing than what was happening further up the ground.  The father, an intimidatingly sized man who looked like he had not played football or participated in any physical pursuit for some while became increasingly frustrated.  Finally, he stalked out onto the field and ripped the bib off the boy, flung it onto the ground and dragged the boy off by the arm.  The mother, shame faced, picked up her son's backpack and followed behind.  She was, in my opinion, unnaturally quiet. We were shocked and saddened by what we had witnessed.  My sister has told me that this sort of behaviour is not uncommon.  This is Auskick!

The problem seems widespread.  A recent newspaper article  (The West Australian June 24-25, p5) described the increase in abusive behaviour in football and the associated difficulties in retaining umpires.  A friend whose son attends a school in Perth mentioned that the Headmaster had sent a letter home to parents reminding them of The Code of Conduct at Sporting Fixtures.  This was in response to several incidents including ...

• students swearing at coaches and umpires
• swearing in general- boys, coaches and officials
• parents abusing each other, opposing teams, coaches and officials
• visiting parents abusing the school nurse.

His message included these words,"If we do not model acceptable behaviour then it is difficult to demand it in return."

It is very sad to think that some parents think they are supporting their child by becoming involved to this degree and in this manner.  The expression on the face of the little boy who was dragged from the field by his father that day still bothers me.  I wonder what behaviour he will be modelling with his own children in the future.