The one about the cricket coach ….

I fetch Connor yesterday from school and he is looking really flushed and just bleak.

I assume it is because it is about 36 degrees and he has been playing sport.  But there is something about him that just looks off.

I let the girls walk on to the car, and walk next to Connor and ask him how the game went.

He played a cricket match today – Connor does not actually play cricket, but his tennis had been cancelled last week, so he went along to cricket practice and they asked him if he would play in a cricket match today.

I think Connor is already over stretched with his sport commitments and cultural commitments, but he wanted to play, and I agreed as long as it did not encroach on his existing commitments.

He says his team lost, and appeared to lose by quite a large margin — I don’t play cricket, I am not sure if it is 2 – 0 or 67 – love or what ever.

The point is they lost, and it was by quite a large margin.

I am still not following why Connor is SO DRASTICALLY upset.  Connor plays tennis and does not win each game, and he is always a good sport about it -very much in the mould of  “I will practice harder and play that boy again and then try and win….”

We are walking and he is upset to the extent that he is crying and cannot get the words out.  I stand with him and wait until he can form words that I can understand.  Eventually it comes out that the cricket coach screamed and swore at him (I am not sure if he swore and screamed at the entire team, so I am not talking on behalf of them just the interaction with my son).

Though I swear like a drunk trooper, Connor’s language usage is as clean as the day is long.  He doesn’t swear.  So he is trying to tell me what the coach said without swearing and in resorting to drawing the words in the air with his imaginary pen finger.

I eventually get to the essence and that the coach swore at him and said “fuck” in what ever context it is used in school boy cricket.  At the end of the game Connor asked the coach for the score and got the response: “blah-blah-blah …. you are shit!”

Connor is devastated.  I am livered.  I am so angry I could actually make a sign, or post a Facebook status update!!

It was too late to phone the school, so I spent the remainder of the evening stewing about it.  I found the headmaster’s email and sent a note to him. But this morning when I opened my bleary eyes, I re-thunk that plan and phoned to set up a meeting with the headmaster.

Listen, I have no idea how exciting cricket games can get, but an adult swearing at my son and telling him he is “shit” well that is maybe a bit more excited than I need an adult to be who works with kids.

We have a 10h30 appointment with the headmaster.

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