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Practice Blog 1 of 2: A Roast of the Other Parents

It’s Monday night so that means your good pal Chaps (me) is at basketball practice. Not for me. I’m not some fucking adult weirdo in a basketball league. It’s my kid. McCartney loves basketball. Baller too. My little superstar has a video that went more viral than anything I’ve ever done. Can’t find the video right now because I’m at practice and blogging this from my phone. You’ll understand. Twitter search on the app is a bitch. You know that. 

Anyway, I sourced a question to my followers and buddy, they did not disappoint. As a man of my word, here’s the most favorited tweet in the thread.

Let me set the scene for you a little bit. This is week 4 on this particular team. The Bears. The bears STINK. It’s not their vault though. The league does a blind draft. My kid’s team is BY FAR the smallest. They are the new-look rockets of their league without the winning ways. McCartney is a baller. Handles. Jumper. Defense. The whole package. Well, minus rebounds. Because the team is bad, they get SMOKED.

You’d think that would cause the parents to become more invested, right? Encourage these little hapless athletes on their journey through a tough season. Nope. Wouldn’t you know it, these fucking parents are dick deep in their phones doing god knows what. Nothing important. Not working. Not doing something productive.

What ever happened to the days of being in the moment? What ever happened to yelling out “good job honey!” when your kid hits a layup with an off-hand? That’s what I do. See?

Engaged as fuck in the action. Did you hear any other parents? Nope. They were too busy. It’s frankly bullshit that I have to constantly set the example but this is the cross I carry. I’ll carry this burden until my last breath. That’s my promise to you. I can’t do shit about these other bags of fish guts but I can be shining dad light on an otherwise dark hillside in the hill country of Texas.

Sorry for the typos. Again, I’m at practice and doing the best I can.