It’s been an interesting start of a fall club ball season with a new team. The coaches and parents are mostly wonderful. The majority are certainly invested in their DD’s success while being reasonable and appropriately reserved during the games (in the critique of their DD).
It is tough to watch one of the parents though. He is absolutely evaporating his DD’s enjoyment of the game (and probably her success as well).
She is an asset in the field and is a versatile. However, she is struggling at the plate. She drops her hands badly just before the swing and is having trouble making contact. Before every at bat, the dad comes over behind the dugout and hectors his daughter about multiple aspects.
The Webster definition of the verb to hector is, “to speak to somebody in a loud, threatening, or domineering tone intended to intimidate.” I am sure you all know this word, but this definition is spot-on.
The father unleashes a loud, domineering and disapproving stream of commentary during the entirety of her at bat ending with some exclamation of disgust at her failure. He must believe she should be much better.
She is 13, a favorite of her teammates and often has a smile on her face. That smile is nowhere to be seen when she is at bat. She endures her father’s barrage of disjointed instructions and disappointment with a palpable dejection.
It’s hard to see her cry in the dugout.
It is tough to watch one of the parents though. He is absolutely evaporating his DD’s enjoyment of the game (and probably her success as well).
She is an asset in the field and is a versatile. However, she is struggling at the plate. She drops her hands badly just before the swing and is having trouble making contact. Before every at bat, the dad comes over behind the dugout and hectors his daughter about multiple aspects.
The Webster definition of the verb to hector is, “to speak to somebody in a loud, threatening, or domineering tone intended to intimidate.” I am sure you all know this word, but this definition is spot-on.
The father unleashes a loud, domineering and disapproving stream of commentary during the entirety of her at bat ending with some exclamation of disgust at her failure. He must believe she should be much better.
She is 13, a favorite of her teammates and often has a smile on her face. That smile is nowhere to be seen when she is at bat. She endures her father’s barrage of disjointed instructions and disappointment with a palpable dejection.
It’s hard to see her cry in the dugout.