Hump Day F*$% You: Crazy Little League Baseball Dad

With little league baseball action ramping up across America, it’s time to give a special shout out to one of the shittiest characters to roam your local public baseball diamonds.

This week’s Hump Day Fuck You goes out to crazy little league baseball dad.

Walter Matthau played a disinterested coach, which is far better than a crazy baseball dad.

Walter Matthau played a disinterested coach, which is far better than a crazy baseball dad.

You know who you are, man. You are the guy who coaches your son or daughter’s baseball or softball team like you are managing for the mother fucking New York Yankees in Game 7 of the World Series. You are the dude who, at best, was probably a mediocre 8th grade pitcher with two decent pitches, and releases your pent-up frustration by trolling preteens. You are the buffoon who throws more temper tantrums in your dugout in one game than your 10-year-olds throw the entire season – combined.

Calm the fuck down, you asshole. If you don’t slow your role soon, your kid will probably hate you for the rest of your sad life. If he doesn’t hate you, it’s worse for the rest of us because he becomes the year 2035 version of your sorry ass.

There’s nothing wrong with being a passionate little league coach. But it’s important where that passion is focused and how it is filtered. I benefited from some great coaches at young age – including, luckily, my father – who wanted to win just as badly as I did. However, they were patient, calm, thoughtful, and wise. Instead of acting like an angry child when an umpire made a bad call, they told my teammates and me to focus on what we could control. Instead of popping a blood vessel every time someone made an error or swung at a bad pitch, they pulled the offender aside to explain how they could improve next time. They taught me how to be a good teammate – whether I was the best or worst player on the team.

Essentially, the good coaches taught me how to have perspective and act like an adult. They showed me that playing the blame game gets a person nowhere, and it’s important to treat teammates who you would like to be treated. I learned how to look inward before pointing fingers and going on expletive-laden rants. This has paid off in my professional life.

But this post is about the asshole little league dad, whom I’ve also experienced on multiple occasions. Today, we’re flipping off the guy who screams at the top of his lungs at a 14-year-old, pubescent umpire who makes $8.50/hour because he thought little Johnny Baseball was safe at first base. This Wednesday, we whip our baseball at the tangled genitals of the cup-wearing little league manager who tells your son he sucks. Because even if your son does suck, the coach shouldn’t say that. Let your kid figure out that baseball isn’t his thing on his own. He will. Trust me.

MLB Network analyst Mitch Williams getting ejected from his 10-year-old son's little league game.

MLB Network analyst Mitch Williams getting ejected from his 10-year-old son’s little league game.

I think the asshole little league coach is the way he is for a variety of reasons including (but not limited to):

  • Daddy issues.
  • Sexual frustration.
  • Alcoholism.
  • A prolonged midlife crisis.
  • An undiagnosed chemical imbalance or anger issue (or both).
  • A small penis.
  • Divorce.
  • Sucking as a child athlete himself.
  • Boredom.
  • He hasn’t found another outlet for his frustration, like Game of Thrones – or running.
  • Grudge-itis: Holding a grudge against a mean coach back in the day.
  • He’s power hungry in the worst way.
  • Serving court-assigned community service hours.
  • Hates himself.

To all the kids who have to play for these jerks: You will be okay.

It’s not fair that you ended up under the guidance of this jackass as a result of your little league draft. I know you wanted to play for the cool coach who everyone loves. I’ve been there. But this is real life – granted, way earlier than you should have to deal with real life – but real life nonetheless. Don’t stop loving the game. Play for your teammates, and work hard to get better. Win in spite of your coach. One day, you’ll be grateful for learning how to deal with a dickhead authority figure at such a young age.

And to all you crazy little league dads: Fuck. You.

Go find a hobby that doesn’t involve being irrationally mean to highly impressionable children. Start a fight club amongst each other and yell as you bash each other’s heads in.

Little league baseball (and all youth sports) is supposed to be fun. Shame on you for forgetting that, you selfish pricks.


No, Virginia, There Isn’t A Santa Claus

The worst thing you can do is lie. Or at least that is what my parents would tell me time and time again growing up. Being the smart ass that I was, still am, when I would get caught in a lie I’d always counter with the fact that my parents had lied to me for nearly 10 years of my life. Granted I’m partly to blame for believing that there was a fairy whom collected teeth that I lost and gave me a quarter for it. Who would be dumb enough to have that business model? The cost of flying all over the world constantly buying teeth. I mean how much could a baby teeth be worth on the market? For believing that a bunny came and hid eggs on the day our lord and savior Jesus Christ rose and brought us to salvation. And that there was a fat, jolly man that flew around the world giving presents to every little boy and girl in one night. Plus he is afraid of doors, so he chooses to enter via the chimney.

No wonder The Rock came back to the WWE. He lost all his money in the Teeth Import/Export Industry.

No wonder The Rock came back to the WWE. He lost all his money in the Teeth Import/Export Industry.

Lies, all of them. Sure they were not the most deceitful lies since the fairy didn’t come unless I told my parents. The bunny always hid the eggs in the exact same spot. And Santa’s handwriting was suspiciously similar to my Mom’s. Never the less, still lies. “But it’s the good kind of lie. The kind that spreads childhood wonder and joy.” Easy there, Pandora, have you not learned your lesson about opening your box? Don’t get me wrong, I do think that lying can be a good thing. It is impossible to live without telling lies, but these childhood fables are not the kind that improve lives in fact they promote the bad kind of lies. The one’s we tell ourselves.

I lie almost daily and the majority of these lies are to myself. I lie to convince myself I live in a world where a fat jolly man brings presents just for me. A world where I’m special and good things are supposed to happen to me. “I can eat that doughnut, I’m not getting fatter. It’s okay to slack off at work, I’m going to become a millionaire TV writer someday. She’s a idiot and going to be miserable the rest of her life because I’m the only man whom can please her.” The problem with the lies of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and all the rest is that it creates this fairy tale world for kids that becomes so comforting that the reality becomes harder to handle as we get older.

“Santa has been around for centuries and generations have been able to grow up just fine.” The Santa of the past was a modest one. He might bring you one present, maybe two if you’re lucky and he certainly did not have the PR department he does now. The commercialization of Christmas has turned Santa into a mega corporation. He is everywhere from October through December. Everything is bigger, brighter, and more expensive. The Santa fallacy has gotten out of control, which is why I’ve decide that I will not spread it to my children. The buck stops here. It won’t be some fairy with no business acumen handing out quarters for lost teeth. No bunny will be hopping around hiding colored eggs for some strange reason. And no present under the tree will read, “From, Santa.”

What the fuck happened to this bunny growing up that makes him want to hide colored eggs?

What the fuck happened to this bunny growing up that makes him want to hide colored eggs?

I know, I know how awful of me. How could I scar my children like that? We’ll see whose laughing by the time all our kids grow up. But even before then I’ll enjoy a wonderful childhood with them all. By not lying to them my kids will understand that there is an open line of conversation between us and there is nothing we cannot discuss. They will understand that no magical beings are going to give them things because of a date on the calendar. Instead things are earned by merit, so they will not pull that little kid crap where they cry to get there way because they think they’re special and deserve it. This attitude will lead to them blowing away the competition academically and moving through school in an accelerated fashion. All earning academic scholarships through high school and college, saving me a bundle and allowing for an early retirement.

They will learn that lying is not something that should be used to make ourselves feel better because that only holds us back. Lies should be used to help others through manipulation. Manipulation has a negative connotation because most people whom use it do so for their own gain. It can also be used to get people to do something that they would otherwise not and this may improve their lives. Lies can also help protect others from truths that are too difficult to handle. As my children grow up they will understand how people operate because they operated above all these fallacies. They will become arbiters of lies and understand how to use them in a logical, not emotional way, and this will help get the most out of life. Most lies we tell are emotional in order to make ourselves feel better, no matter whom we may hurt. These are bad lies and can be traced back to the Santa fallacy as its roots. Logical lies, where the person understands exactly what they’re doing and why they’re doing it are positive.

By never lying to my children I will give them a greater chance to succeed. It will be a pain in the ass to deal with all the angry parents of kids that mine tried to spread the truth to, but it will be worth the sacrifice to see all that they will accomplish. Plus I hope that this article inspires you all to end the Santa fallacy as well. Together we have the power to put an end to Santa Claus forever. But if this article is not enough to inspire you to join me, then consider this, Santa’s been fucking your mother for years. Let’s kill that bastard.

santa dead