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Yesterday's practice was informative. I didn't necessarily need to see more hitting. I needed times for my excel sheet. Of the 78 kids that were available, we had about 45 there for times. Our first hour was dedicated to hitting. The second hour became our combine time.
Steve and his assistant Rob did 20 and 10 yard dashes. I sent Bryan over to help Roger with two types of ladder drills. I ran the box drill on my own. John was on his own. Screw him.
Afterward, John kind of started poking around to ask what was going on. Sorry, bud. Didn't think you'd be interested in helping since you never helped before.
While we were together after practice, we had to make our "protected" players official. John, being the nice, smug guy that he is, rattles of his kids. John then starts challenging me, Steve, and Roger about obtaining parent permission for our protected players.
Ooh, that really sounds great, John. Let me see...I helped put the rules together and...yep, we didn't make that a requirement. Sorry bud.
"Oh well, their parents said they'd really like their son to play for me." Really? Well, they can suck an egg.
"So that's not a requirement?" Nope, if you'd read your rules, you'd know that. Good luck with your team, pal.
Shocked and clearly not happy, John departs, stage left.
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