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I been coaching hockey for the past 20 years. Had my share of parents. One reason I left the Northeast was because I got sick of the crap.

One game, 12 parents were standing on the rail with stopwatches, counting their kids ice time. After the game I got an excel spreadsheet with all their times.

I looked at it and said. You all have a choice. You can either talk amongst yourselves and come up with what you feel is how much time each player should get and I will make that happen, or you can all stfu and let me do what you are paying me to do.

So they yelled, went to the board and next game, sure enough out with their stop watches. I took my best 5 players and gave them 12 minutes each. My players who could barely skate I gave 12 minutes each.

After the game, the parents of the best players screamed at me, the worst were happy. I told the parents of the best players that they bought into the crap so therefore their kids will suffer because of them.

They yelled, went to the board and next game, sure enough, everyone had their stop watches out. I play my players the way I am supposed to; hard work in practice, committment to excellence, and willingness to skate through a wall for each other.

Game ends, and I call a parent meeting. I have a conference room assigned, an overhead and my material. First slide. Player contract with stipulation that player ice time is at the coaches discretion. Each signature page signed by both parent and player. Next slide. USA Hockey code of conduct, which each parent and player signed. Final slide. Any questions?

Parents look at each other, look at me and parent of one of the lesser skilled players who started this crap tells me to resign. In front of the entire team. I look at my assistant, look around the room, and in my calmest voice I announce that his child has been cut and he should explain to the child why.

And that’s when the police came. Needless to say, his mother brought him to the rink from that point forward. The dad wasn’t even allowed to drop the kid off in the parking lot.

My team won a championship. 3 of those kids went on to play D1. Oh, forgot to mention something. At the time this happened, the kids were peewees.

Moral of the story. Drop your kids off at practice, kiss them and tell them you love them and will see them after practice. At games, go grab a cup of coffee, do not talk to anyone else and enjoy your kid playing the greatest game God ever invented. Then take him/her for ice cream. And teach your kid to tie their own skates and carry their own bag.