Written by Pete Coonan.
Dad was always a very vocal supporter when it come to watching us kids play sports, not one of those idiots screaming at a ref or 10-year-old players; just a proud dad throwing a few supporting words out there.
Except for one day. . .
I was playing a game of league when I was about 12, in Ipswich, when our little country side was really putting it to the Ipswich Rep team (normally the score would resemble a cricket score of 70-0). There was only about 5 minutes to go and we were only losing by a try when an Ipswich player goes down in what we all thought was a ploy to run the clock down. Next thing, we all hear this ‘F*CKING GET ON WITH IT, GET UP!’ One of my team mates says, ‘Shit who was that?’ I didn’t need to look, I knew the answer and with a sheepish grin replied ‘dad’.
He couldn’t have picked a worse time to be one of those crazy arse parents on the sideline. Turns out the kids knee cap was around the other side of his leg and his mother was sitting right in front of dad and WAS NOT impressed.
After a slap from mum and an apology to the mother a very red-faced father sat down and shut up.
And we won!