Carys Weldon Blog
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Update on the VB thingI called the school yesterday morning and asked for a meeting with the principal and volleyball coach. The principal had the coach call me to say, "He wants us to meet and work it out before he gets involved."
Duh. There's a putz principal if you ask me.
So, I went to school yesterday. Both the coach and her ass. coach (abbreviated that way for a reason)--they made me wait (which I knew they would do) and then they both sat down. Like they wanted to double-team me. You know, intimidate me. But I weigh more than the two of them put together, and I was a mad mom, so that wasn't really happening.
The first thing out of my mouth was, "How about we start by you defending why you haven't played my daughter in three matches?"
Uh, uh, uh. Dumb faces. Finally, I got, "I didn't notice her."
"Excuse me, you didn't notice her? She is your only senior."
I turned to the ass. coach and asked, "Isn't your job as assistant to point out things she misses. Tell me you didn't notice my daughter sitting beside you for three whole matches."
"Of course I noticed her."
"But you didn't say anything? You didn't say, hey, maybe we should play this girl?"
"We did talk about it."
So, that makes the first coach a liar. Right? I didn't say it. I just lifted my eyebrows at the two of them.
I didn't say it because I didn't want to start with an attack. I let them defend themselves, and they had none. Nothing but lies.
I quietly said, "Let me tell you why I think this girl should not only play, but start varsity."
I went on and on, and when I thought they were maybe glazing over, I circled my time-loop lecture back around--I'm a mother of five, an expert at that.
By the end, the coach said, "You're right, I should have played her."
I told her what she did was cruel and criminal, in my opinion. Then I launched into what I thought a good coach should do.
I asked her, "What is Cheyenne not doing that keeps you from putting her on the court."
Coach's deadpan expressions annoyed the hell out of me.
"Nothing. She's doing good."
"You told her she was doing great. No problems, when she asked what you thought she needed to work on. But, come on...there has to be something. Else, you would have played her."
Repeatedly, Cheyenne has asked these coaches if they saw anything she needed to do better, or work on specifically. Always, she got the answer, "You're looking good."
So, there, they finally say, "She's a little stiff."
Well, duh. She's got more titanium in her back than an airplane.
"So, you're not playing her because she doesn't roll her back more? I know her serve is working. I know she's blocking." Although, I did concede that my white girl can't jump. That's the only thing we're seeing, but that's always been her problem. But they don't have any big jumpers on the team at all. So, duh.
They had no defense basically. I went over all of Cheyenne's attributes. (Honor roll/society, band, plays all sports, fbla, debate team, youth leadership positions, class rep.--doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs, swear. Three years as a starting player...) And I asked, "If you're not rewarding a girl like this with court time, what are you rewarding? This girl EARNED a spot on that court."
They agreed to put her on the court. We have a game tonight. I'm sure I'll be pissed when it's over, but I'm hoping they surprise me. And I damn sure hope Cheyenne makes some miracle plays while she's out there.
But, I ask, why did I ever have to fight this fight?
1 Comments:
They couldn't even come up with any excuses? I hope she shows them tonight.
