Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Really, I don't have snarky comments (ok, maybe just one) about the sports banquet

Last week was N's field hockey banquet.  It was my first such event.

It was very nice, took a huge amount of effort and organization on the part of its coordinators, and it meant so much to N.  She and the other girls were excited and had fun.

Following the meal, each of the coaches gave out awards to their players.  I appreciated N's coach because she kept her awards' delivery short and sweet.  N received "Most Improved Offense."  I don't actually know what that means, but whatever it is, she has improved so I'm happy.

It was at this point that the internal snark came out.  Technically, it is/was not directed at any of the particular coaches; it is/was aimed at all sports players/coaches around the world.  I have had occasions to listen to televised interviews of sports figures, and they are the most redundant, nonsensical things I've ever heard.  It makes Through the Looking Glass and other Lewis Carroll fare seem like ludicity.

At the awards banquet, it took quite a long time to say what might have been summed up in one sentence:  "Players gave their all, gave 110% and rocked it." The Carrie way to have an awards ceremony in under 2 minutes.

The awards took long enough that I played with my phone and seriously considered grabbing my book from my purse until it was over.

But all the while I was having these "please.STOP.TALKING" thoughts, I felt guilty, which is why after we returned home and got the kids to bed, I sent a thank you email to the coach, coordinator and parents of N's team.

Although I grouched about the 3-times-a-week practice and rolled my eyes at all the goody bags and "team spirit" things, the whole point of it was to team- and friendship-build, and the girls loved it.  They are 11-year-olds who thrive on that stuff.

It occurred to me that I should be thankful for the parents and coaches who put the energy into these little things.  Just because I think they are unnecessary and pointless doesn't mean they actually are.  My reality isn't everyone's reality; my disinterest isn't everyone's disinterest.

Especially not my daughter's, who is already talking about next year's field hockey season (heaven help me).  

No comments: