Those Parents

It seems that I am one of those parents. You know, the ones who stand on the sidelines of their kids' games and just can't stop yelling. I've seen the looks other parents give me. I'm fairly sure the boys on Code-man's soccer team don't even hear me, but still I can't help yelling at the forwards to get in front of the goal, give him someone to pass to, control it, and dribble it all the way in, the defenders to not let anyone behind them, take the throw, and protect their goalie, the goalie to pick it up, and everyone to spread out, talk to each other, and stay in their zones. I'm happy to say that I have managed to refrain from yelling at the refs thus far, but I have, on occasion, said things loudly like, "hand ball," or "purple throw," (just friendly little reminders) and I'm fairly certain that two games ago, the ref would not have called a goal when the other team's goalie caught the ball on the wrong side of the goal line if it hadn't been for Hubby and me standing and applauding loudly for the goal. I really, honestly, can't help it. After every game, I think to myself, Scarlet, you really need to bring it down a notch, but game after game, there I am, yelling--always encouraging, constructive things, but still yelling, almost the entire game. I think this must be why my Dad coached his kids' soccer teams--to give him an excuse to be the one yelling on the sidelines.