There once was a coach.
He coached a little league team.
When the little boys would miss the ball, he called them a "sissy," and told them they were idiots. This, he told me, would help them try harder to catch the ball.
When they overthrew, he told them that they threw like girls, and belittled them. This, he said, he did because he wanted them to work on the arm and improve it.
When they missed the ball, he called them a wiffer.
He complained about the awful coaches that would say, "That's alright, Billy. You can do it. Keep your eye on the ball. You can do it."
He hated the coaches that said, "Try again. Keep trying until you get it right. You can do this."
He hated the coach that said, "We lost today. But you played hard. I'm proud of you."
He hated the coach that said, "we made a lot of mistakes today. What did you learn?"
He said that kids needed to be belittled, yelled at, humiliated, and called the most insulting of names in order to improve.
But he said all of these things out of "love" to help make his team better players.
Unfortunately, none of them stuck around long enough to improve. In fact, most of them grew to hate the game itself, but to especially hate the coach.
And the coach said, "Fine. Go ahead and quit. But you hate me because you don't want to work. You hate me because you are no good. And the more you hate me, the more it proves that I was a great coach."
The head of the Little League watched his methods, told him he was a disgrace to the the League, and he was removed immediately.
He coached a little league team.
When the little boys would miss the ball, he called them a "sissy," and told them they were idiots. This, he told me, would help them try harder to catch the ball.
When they overthrew, he told them that they threw like girls, and belittled them. This, he said, he did because he wanted them to work on the arm and improve it.
When they missed the ball, he called them a wiffer.
He complained about the awful coaches that would say, "That's alright, Billy. You can do it. Keep your eye on the ball. You can do it."
He hated the coaches that said, "Try again. Keep trying until you get it right. You can do this."
He hated the coach that said, "We lost today. But you played hard. I'm proud of you."
He hated the coach that said, "we made a lot of mistakes today. What did you learn?"
He said that kids needed to be belittled, yelled at, humiliated, and called the most insulting of names in order to improve.
But he said all of these things out of "love" to help make his team better players.
Unfortunately, none of them stuck around long enough to improve. In fact, most of them grew to hate the game itself, but to especially hate the coach.
And the coach said, "Fine. Go ahead and quit. But you hate me because you don't want to work. You hate me because you are no good. And the more you hate me, the more it proves that I was a great coach."
The head of the Little League watched his methods, told him he was a disgrace to the the League, and he was removed immediately.