My son Vince is not a natural athlete. So what. I wasn't. I did alright.
But I'll tell you what I was - I was a hustler. I ran faster and harder than anybody else. I was crazy about it. Ask anyone that knew me.
They used to scream, "Griff, Griff!" Not for scoring, just because of my attitude.
All I want for my son, when he plays a sport, is I want him to hustle, to run hard. That's it, man. Run to the ball, listen to your coach, be a good teammate.
Doesn't seem like a lot.
And I think that hustle carries over into your adult life and your work ethic.
So, we had a soccer game yesterday, He plays for a little Mt. Lebanon team. The coach is amazing, doesn't push the kids, doesn't scream at the kids. I love it.
And before every game, I tell my boy I say "My man, come here. What does dad want you to do?" My son Vince says "Uh, uh, hustle."
"That's it son! That's it. Hustle. And if you don't hustle, I'm gonna take your electronics away from you."
I'm serious. Man, I will forgive anything. I won't forgive lack of hustle. Just won't. If that makes me a bad guy, I'm a bad guy.
So that's the last thing I say to my son. If he looks over at me, I give him a thumbs up. That's it.
He's not a great player. He's never gonna be a great player. I don't care. He likes being on the team. He just does.
So yesterday, this little Mt. Lebanon team played another team from Chartiers. Nice area, beautiful park.
So Vince's team had a total of eight guys, including the goalie. You're supposed to have 11 on the field. And then a kid got sick, so they had seven guys. And, they pledged to play the game regardless of being shorthanded.
Three things happened that kind of blew me away.
First thing, the Mt. Lebanon coach, he did the right thing, he yelled right before the game: "Mt. Lebanon parents, put your masks on."
Look man, it was outside, we were separated, there's 20 of us. No big deal. We're all vaccinated. I am, but I put my mask on. So what, I don't care. It's not a big deal, man. I am not making that an issue. Sorry, not sorry.
So we did that. A couple of big ego guys , the testosterone kings, they started yelling of course. And ironically, though, the same people that scream and yelled the entire game - and I mean the entire game. Not the Mt. Lebanon parents, we just chilled.
We had seven kids on the field, they had nine and their coach refused to take two kids off the field to make it even. This is the world we're living in. Basically saying, "that's your problem." Seriously.
I didn't say a word. I don't get involved in this stuff.
So there's seven against nine to start with. Then these Chartiers parents - there were two guys and a woman - they went berserk. I mean berserk. The entire game.
The mother: "You better get on your horse, Griff." The one kid's name was Griff. "Griff, Griff, this isn't kickball. This is soccer. Griff, you're standing around, Griff."
It was ugly. This is a mother. Veins in her neck poppin'.
I'm serious, ask my daughter Chloe. We were trippin', we were giggling so hard.
Then, there were two fathers. Big, bulky guys tatted up, ready to fight. Literally fight.
Man, they screamed so loud at their kids about how horrible they were and they didn't hustle and told them where to go on every single play.
These fathers screamed so loud, and again remember they're playing with a two man advantage and no one mentioned that, they screamed so loud at their kids, I'm glad I had a mask on because I was laughing so hard.
It was embarrassing. A couple people moved their chairs away from them, because they were acting like morons. They were so loud.
It got so loud with their screaming. Of course their masks were pulled down. Of course they're too manly to wear a mask. Of course, they lift weights, you know. Of course, they played high school soccer.
Anyway, they were screaming so loud that their coach stopped the game and came over and said "if you don't stop, I can't coach, because you're louder than I am and the kids can't hear because you're screaming."
I timed it. He walked across the field, they started the game again, within 90 seconds, they were screaming louder.
Ignored the coach. Ignored what he asked them to was just shut up!
The one guys says this, "I can't help it, I'm passionate."
Really, man?
This is the guy, veins poppin' over his tattoos - I'm not trying to stereotype him, but he had 'em on his neck - he's screaming at the top of his lungs and they ask him to shut up and he didn't.
And his comeback was, "I can't help it, I'm passionate." He's calling his kid every name in the book, he's screaming at every player on the field and he's "passionate."
Is that what it is, sir, passion?
Is that what that is, folks, passion?
What do we do with these parents?
