The curse of the soccer parent

If I told you one of the people in this photograph was a gold-plated, 24-carat, undeniable and incontrovertible prick, which person would you pick out? Yes, me too.

Out to the Sooners Dome to watch Ottawacker Jr.'s final U12 match of the winter, 7 vs. 7, indoor league. They've done well enough - especially as they are playing The Serious Clubs, who Shout Really Loudly at Their Players and Criticize Them if They Make Mistakes. We weren't yet on the field: we were waiting behind the goal patiently for our turn to get on.

This enabled me the opportunity to see Dickhead Man in action. Not a coach, I hesitate to say, but a parent. Dickhead Man probably plays hockey - and brings the Hockey Parent Intensity to his Soccer Dickheadishness. For the 30 minutes I was there, he applauded opposition mistakes (these are 10/11/12 year olds); screamed at the referee; shouted at people on the next pitch whose ball came onto this pitch; screamed some more at the referee; tried to coach his son, telling him what he should do next time; shouted at the opposition; and refused to move while a member of the opposition was taking a throw-in.

Behold. I give you Dickhead Man.