This blog is a collection of my thoughts and experiences from ten years as a skate dad. For those of you sitting with your jackets in the bleachers, first I salute you, but second I want to give you an honest sense of what you are in for and what to expect. Ice skating is both a trying and a glorious sport, but it doesn't happen without the special group of folks who cheer, support, and console the participants. This is dedicated to you.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

- parental psychic warfare

I hate to say it, but at some rinks there's some funky sh*t going down. Much like some other sports, some skating parents take their kids' advancement faaaar too seriously. I have a vivid memory of visiting Valencia Ice Station once, where the "pond" (the small practice third surface) was still running a freestyle. Basically a bunch of competitive twelve to fourteen year old girls all fifty feet away from one another squeezing in jumps between their parents' angst.

Meanwhile, parental psychic warfare. The warfare is through subtle comments and not so subtle glares and recriminations. Plus psychics to fill a spellbook. Much of it is of the simple "bad wish" kind, the whisper of "fall now" or "catch your toe pick." Some of it is more serious: spells for injury, bad luck, or mishap. Some is deliberate rumor mongering.

I can't fathom how parents would be that way; I'm against it on principal, but I still sense it happening. Then on top  of what a teen skater otherwise has to go through with her own angst, they get to deal with parents who think they are helping. I'm not sure how skater-girls make it through that age. Too much drama.

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