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Is It Just Me?: Or is it Nuts Out There? Page 9
Is It Just Me?: Or is it Nuts Out There? Read online
Page 9
But, oh, what stunts they pull . . . Like the fans who like to pack batteries in snowballs and throw them at the football players. That’s just dangerous. What gives anybody the right to come in and throw a brick dressed as a snowball at somebody and think it’s funny? What if they hit him? That’s one player going to the hospital and one fan going to jail.
The hot new summer sport doesn’t seem to be baseball. It’s fans running out onto the field to be Tasered by cops. Why? . . . Really, why??
What makes people think they have the right to leave their house and go to some stadium and be obnoxious?
Stay home.
Who decided a stadium is a free pass? I think a lot of people believe it is. It’s the “If It Happens in Vegas” mentality . . . only in the bleachers.
How about when you’re sitting there and folks show up with all sorts of crap and start spreading it out on the seats like it was a sale? They spread out like they were in their living rooms or Man Caves at home. If you’re one of these people, here’s The Big Question: What gives you the right to go to a stadium and pretend you’re at home? And if you have a Man Cave? You may already be a lost cause.
I bet you don’t pull anything like that at home. I doubt that they would let you. And maybe that’s why you’re moving around to ball parks and stadiums so much. You think that you’re entitled to do it because you paid $490 for a ticket? What about the other people who paid for tickets too? What are they entitled to? What if everybody does it?
It’s nuts.
Now, there are some annoyances at sporting events that you can’t really do anything about. For instance, some folks complain that they don’t like it when people keep getting up and down during the game ’cause they make everybody stand up and move every two minutes. I say, let that one go. It’s annoying, but you don’t know if they have to go to the bathroom or get food or maybe just walk off a leg cramp from being crowded by that guy who spread his crap out all over the row. That’s one we just relax and live with. Choose your battles.
If you want to get angry at someone, save it for the fans who think it’s cute to harass or belittle the food and souvenir vendors . . . giving them demeaning nicknames, or tossing their money so they have to stoop for it. They think it’s funny. But everything’s a little more amusing when you’re buzzed.
Most people don’t know how to drink. I’m going to take a wild guess that these are not the people paying attention to the end of the TV ad where it says, “Enjoy responsibly.”
They enjoy being jerks.
Meanwhile, these stadium vendors are working stiffs. They’re not enjoying a Sunday afternoon in a reserved seat pounding back a cold brew. They’re the ones serving it. Carrying fifty or sixty pounds on their backs, making change while some joker makes fun of them.
I’m a sports fan. I’m supposed to come to this game and enjoy myself and cheer my team. You, however, are not supposed to be throwing things and acting up right next to me. Or leaning over my kid and being rude. You’re not supposed to do that.
I have an idea for a new tradition at the stadium. Throwing out the first drunk.
Chapter 35
Self-Test: Stadium Behavior
Have you ever been involved in an altercation with another fan at a sporting event?
If no, score 0
If once, score 2
If more than once, score 5
Have you ever been spoken to by stadium security about your drinking, swearing, or rowdiness?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 5
If you don’t remember, score 10
If stadium security cautioned you, did it bother you that they did?
If yes, score 0
If no, score 5
Have you ever thrown an object onto the field (or floor or ice)?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 5
Have you ever been asked to leave a sporting event because your behavior was disruptive to other fans?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 5
If more than once, score 10
Did you care?
If yes, score 0
If no, score 5
If someone disrupted your time at the game, would it bother you?
If yes, score 0
If no, score 5
Total score: ______
Tally your score and write it in on the Master Score Sheet at the back of this book, page 195.
Chapter 36
Block That Parent
What is wrong with soccer moms and Little League dads? No, no, hang on. Not all of them. I’m talking about the ones you see verbally or physically abusing their kids’ coaches and referees at games.
Hey, sideline moms and baseball dads . . . What is wrong in your life that you have to go and yell at people like that? And know what makes it worse? These coaches are often just volunteering to do this job. These aren’t paid referees. These aren’t paid coaches. These are folks who give of their time so kids get a chance to play a team sport. So why abuse them? If you have a real issue with a coach, report him to the league. You don’t have to stand there screaming at him . . . looking like a freak.
Yeah, a freak. You see, from an onlooker’s perspective, there isn’t anybody who looks so fine doing that. Nobody looks good doing it.
What’s changed here? It used to be when you got into Little League and youth soccer it was all about teaching kids something. Playing and values . . . Teamwork . . . How to be good sports . . . Having fun. I don’t know what it’s about now. I don’t get it. I don’t get why parents don’t see what they’re doing, acting out like they do.
And doesn’t it ever once occur to them that this is not the behavior you want to teach a kid? They get all pissed off when their kid is rude, but their rudeness is OK? . . . Am I the only one not getting this?
Unlike bad stadium behavior, this usually doesn’t involve alcohol. Usually. It’s an ego thing, or about parents living their dreams through their kid . . . whatever. It’s a little sad. Because then the poor kid’s trying to figure out, “Well, is this OK behavior? . . . Must be. My parents are doing it. So then it must be all right if I do it to my sister or I do it to kids at school.” If you are one of these nightmare parents, ask yourself—are you showing your child how to become a bully?
Obviously, this behavior is widespread. Don’t take my word for it. Go to a ball field and look at the signs warning parents how to behave. Think about that. They have to put up signs.
What is happening?
Some soccer leagues have instituted something called Silent Sidelines. They’re trying to deal with parents who can’t contain themselves by making a rule that parents can’t cheer either. I see. That’s the solution to stopping the heckling?
What the hell?! Something’s out of whack here. They’re shutting everybody up because of a handful of pissants? Enjoy your game, kids.
I think this is a better solution. If you’re a player who is belligerent, the consequence should be that you can’t be on the team. If your parents are belligerent, they can’t bring you there to play. Most parents, when faced with the annoyance of their child—complaining because their ridiculous behavior has gotten their kid kicked off the team and unable to play anywhere else for a year—would probably learn to keep their big mouths shut.
If there were consequences for belligerence, would people behave differently? They might . . .
But there aren’t consequences, and so we see this pestilence sort of rolling around the world. People just saying anything they feel like, or behaving any way they feel like. Yelling at the coach, “You’re ignoring my son!!” But there are twelve other kids on the team. Don’t they count?
I think they do. Too bad I’m not the one who needs to know that.
Chapter 37
Self-Test: Sideline Civility
At your child’s game, has anyone asked you to chill, that it’s only a game?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 3
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br /> On the sidelines or bleachers, do other parents ever move away from you?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 5
Has your child-athlete ever asked you to stop yelling or not to fight with the other parents?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 5
If more than once, score 10
Did it bother you that your child asked that?
If yes, score 2
If no, score 5
Have you ever called your child’s coach a curse name, or threatened the coach?
If no, score 0
If yes, score 10
Would it piss you off if someone did that to you?
If yes, score 2
If no, score 5
Total score: ______
Tally your score and write it in on the Master Score Sheet at the back of this book, page 195.
Chapter 38
Down in Front!
How many times do you go to your kid’s school pageant or a dance recital or graduation and there’s this proud parent who has decided to be Steven Spielberg . . . Some mom or dad with a camera . . . shooting video, getting up, roaming around up to the stage, and so forth . . . Listen, I’m cool with that. I am. We’re all proud of our kids and want to capture the moment. Groovy. Shoot away!
But . . . don’t get in front of me. If I’m a parent in that audience, I want to see my kid too. And now, you’re in my way, Mr. Spielberg. And I don’t like it. So do what you’ve got to do, get your pictures, but don’t obscure other people’s sight. Don’t make others suffer for your “art.”
If you are one of these videographers, I have to ask something. What makes your . . . Little Documentary That Could . . . more important than everyone else’s chance to enjoy a moment at their child’s event?
And, in case you got too caught up in your cinematic moment to notice, you are incredibly embarrassing. Parents think it’s cute but it is amazing to me that they don’t remember how they felt when this was done to them. Even though it was with a Polaroid or a Kodak Brownie.
And for kids trying to perform on that stage, it sure doesn’t help their concentration. It can’t be good for them. In fact, it’s probably freaking them out. So you go ahead making your digital masterpiece. Memorialize a performance where your child is traumatized because she sees you skulking around. Oh, and get her reaction when she also notices all the other people who are looking at you, going, “I wish this goofball would sit down.”
But mostly, all your kid hears is, “Whose parent is that?”
Make sure you get all that on video.
Chapter 39
Manners
You know, it’s tough to see little courtesies, once so common in our lives, slide away like they have. Now, I call these courtesies little, but they aren’t so little.
For instance, “please” and “thank you” are powerful words. You want something? Ask for it nicely. I don’t care whether it’s in the fanciest restaurant or at the counter of your favorite fast-food spot in the lunchtime rush, notice how adding a “please” at the end of your order can bring a smile? Or when a stranger takes a moment to stop and hold a door open for us, “Hey, thanks” matters. I know if I didn’t say it, I wouldn’t feel right. It’s just an acknowledgment that you are paying attention.
It takes two seconds and it means the world.
So why aren’t people bothering with manners anymore? I mean, we used to have them, right?
It starts young. For them, it’s not so much that they’re being rude. They don’t know any better.
Kids learn by rote. Let’s just say when children are around uncivil people—especially adults with no manners—well, do I need to tell you what hits the fan?
That’s the sound we’re hearing. And there’s only two choices. Basic politeness and common courtesy, or rudeness and incivility.
Case in point: Let’s take the health care debate. We saw people lose their minds! Really . . . People spitting on folks . . . Yelling ugly things—the N-word, the F-word . . . Sending death threats. You wonder . . . do these folks have kids? Do they care their kids might see them on TV or acting like asses? And are their kids going to grow up to reflect their parents’ creepy behavior when they don’t like what someone says?
When I was a kid, man, if you didn’t say “please” or “thank you” or “excuse me” instead of “Huh?” some adult would come flying into that room and be all up in your face demanding to know if you had been brought up by savages!!!
And you had to be polite about stuff you hated. You were taught to at least be civil about that ugly, awful birthday present from some aunt you never heard of, but she was on the phone and you had to talk to her right then and say thank you, because your folks or the adults didn’t want your bad manners to reflect on them.
Gadzooks.
I mean, think about it. It was “Yes, sir,” “No, ma’am,” and “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so.” You’d never call an adult by their first name because it was considered disrespectful.
So when we grew up, a lot of us decided, “The hell with that. My kids will be raised not having to do those things. We will be friends and they will call my adult friends by their first names and I will reason with them and not sweat the manners so much.”
That was a mistake because we didn’t realize, with manners, we must start young.
Chapter 40
An Elevator Is Like a Bathroom
I like people. Crowds . . . ? Uh . . . no thanks.
For instance, there’s a special place in my heart for people who love to stand right in front of me, blocking that escalator while they check their cell phones. No there isn’t. Same as there isn’t for the hand-holders . . . those groups of people who walk—no, saunter—four or five abreast on a sidewalk like it’s some . . . I don’t know . . . sweep operation.
The elbows-out people are lots of fun too. It’s not enough that they are loitering in a narrow aisle of the store . . . Why not supersize the obstruction by putting both hands on the hips and poking those wings out? And then they walk a circle, just to add to the sport. Score an extra ten points if they are wearing huge backpacks and earphones so they can’t hear your polite request to get their butt out of the way . . . By saying, “Excuse me, please,” of course. Of course!
Moving around well on foot is a lost art. When I was a kid and you walked down the sidewalk with a guy, he was always supposed to be on the street side. They say it was a throwback to the days when the streets were not well paved and a gentleman didn’t want the woman to get splashed by water from a passing car. I thought it was kind of dopey but, hey . . . at least everybody knew where to be.
On subways or commuter trains, there’s an unwritten law of flow for that too. Although . . . as you have probably noticed . . . a lot of people don’t seem to know it. Maybe because it’s an unwritten law. So as a public service, let me write it here:
When you’re getting onto a subway, wait for the people to get off.
Simple as that. Astoundingly, crowds still try to get out and in at the same time. Know what that is called? That is called a line of scrimmage. It makes no sense and drives people crazy. Why don’t people wait for everyone to get off first? It’s because they’re afraid they’re not going to get on. Listen. If they would just step to the side so that people don’t have to push them out of the way to get off of the thing, chances are they would actually get on faster because it would be a clear path. It’s not only polite, it’s common sense. But who says we have a surplus of those two things? Not I.
I guess the same thing applies to people getting on and off of elevators. Another peeve of mine. Yours too? Need I ask?
Ninety percent of people waiting for an elevator stand in front of the friggin’ door. How come? Because they’re not thinking that maybe . . . just maybe . . . other people are going to be on that elevator, and they’re probably going to want to get off. Generally, the dance step is to stand to the side so everybody can get off without having
to collide with a wall of humanity. Just like subways, elevators are give-and-take spaces. And work best in that order, meaning . . . give before you take.
Like life itself.
And if you’re already on the elevator, standing in front of the panel, sing out. Ask people what floor they want. Most folks are cool about this. In my experience, most people who are in front of the panel will ask . . . If not, just speak up and say, “Would you press three for me, please?”
“Please?” Wow. They won’t know what to do.
Elevators are awkward spaces. You get in there and what are you supposed to do? You’re supposed to just sort of stand there until you get where you’re going. But folks are always uncomfortable. People get onto an elevator and they’re not smiling, so that makes people even more uncomfortable. They think, “OK, now I’ve got to stand here with this . . . stranger.”
The elevator is like the bathroom. Once you’re in there, you have a few moments to think about what you need to do. And other people can make it feel uncomfortable. That’s why people get so annoyed when people are speaking loudly on the elevator. It’s also irritating when someone gets on wearing earbuds cranking music at max volume. It’s probably why they don’t pump in Muzak anymore. Who needs the Percy Faith Orchestra playing “Muskrat Love” when you can enjoy the tinny crap bleeding out of the Human Resources guy’s skull?
It’s also like the bathroom because people avoid eye contact. Those doors close and folks suddenly get elevator eyes. That’s because, I find, most people don’t know how to interact in that little box. So when you smile and say, “Hey.” They go, “Oh . . . somebody’s talking . . . What? Oh, hey.” There is nothing wrong with a little “How you doin’, hey.” And, you know, it does make the day a tiny bit brighter when you get on an elevator and you’re greeted.
You don’t have to have a deep, personal relationship with this person. But it’s just acknowledgment. Just to acknowledge I’m in this tiny little space with you. And that we’re all uncomfortable. But it’ll be all right.