Social Ostracism 101, Soccer Style – Part Two

Posted: December 1, 2009 in I love my daughter but I'd love her more if she was good at sports, I'm an asshole, kids, parenting, wife

Today I bring you part two of the Mental Poo “How-To” series:

Social Ostracism 101, Soccer Style

You can find part one here.

If you’ve read part one, you should now know the ins and outs of making fun of your own child in public.

This is a great start towards making sure you have absolutely no adult friends.

Or, at least, any adult friends who don’t want to be seen anywhere near you in public or invite you to parties and shit.

We’re a lonely people.

Let’s continue with part two of our series on how to lose friends and alienate people, shall we?


So, the wife and are I sitting at my daughter’s final soccer game of the season.

Did I mention that we absolutely HATE sitting at this shit?

Soccer takes up about an hour of my life that I could spend doing much more important stuff like watching the football pregame shows or cleaning in between my toes or eating something with salt on it (which, depending on my findings, may or may not be something that I discovered in between my toes…two birds/one stone kinda thing).


So the wife and I are sitting through this giant fucking waste of an hour, when, at about ten minutes into the first half…

…a kid from the other team goes down.


He gets knocked to the ground…

…glasses askew.

Then, to add insult to injury, one of our kids steps on him.

He’s DOWN.

He’s OUT.

Holy. Shit.

Coaches run over.

Parents run over.

This looks serious.

A hush falls over the crowd.

* cricket

Then…amidst the silence…

…my wife…

Wife: “Hey…maybe they’ll forfeit.”

(other mother glares over)

Me: “Holy shit. That would be AWESOME.”

We laugh.

Then we BOTH start chanting:

“Forfeit! Forfeit! Forfeit!”

Because, you know…

..we kinda want to go home.

Let me tell you:

If I could bottle the looks we were getting and label it as ‘Evil Death Stare’ and sell it at WalMart I’d be a fucking billionaire.

We’re so fucking mean it’s hilarious.

To us.

I suppose this helps explain the lack of invites to parties and shit.

Oh well.

More time to sit home and watch the pregame shows.

Moog out.


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