Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hockey Parent

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hockey Parent,
I'd like to ask you a huge favor for the coming season. Could you please just STFU and watch the game. What exactly is going through your head? Your kid already has a coach and he doesn't need the sound of your shrill annoying voice echoing through his growing brain as he tries to do his job on the ice. I mean really. Do you think that yelling SKAAAAAAAATE is going to make him skate harder or faster or better? Hello? All it does is make him think STFU YOU PSYCHOTIC! I'M SKATING AS FAST AS I CAN! DEAR GOD HOW LONG BEFORE I CAN MOVE OUT ALREADY? Do you think that there's a scout in the arena ready to pluck your son out of the crowd and send him to the NHL? What is wrong with you? Pay attention. Every time the rest of the adults on the bench cover their ears or roll their eyes or change seats to get far away from you that's a sign that you either have body odor or you're insane. Wake up and smell the Xanax. Put down the horn, step away from the whistle and get the message. Organized hockey is about having some fun, playing on a team, doing a little exercise and having a couple of hours a week away from you! Let. Him. Enjoy it... Let. ME. Enjoy it.

Mr. and Mrs. Hockey Parent, you have offended me to my core with every scream and every slur of the opposing team's children. You think Carey Price has a tough job? He earns $2.5 million and is coached by psychologists to get through the love/hate rollercoaster of the fans. That cartwheel you did on the eleventh goal tonight? It was in the face of a ten year old kid who already felt like he let down his team. Give your kid a thumbs up, take a sedative if you need to but leave your kid - and the rest of us - alone.

Warmest regards, a belated shana tova and I still hope you'll give to the CJA campaign when I call on Super Sunday,
#43's mother

PS And please don't sit next to me to brag about your other children's accomplishments on the ice or the ski hill or the classroom. Unless I ask, I'm not interested.