Noah Chang loves basketball. F'ing loves it. Enough to put together a 10-minute video of him taking a little girl to school in his driveway, all the while showing us the basics and throwing in some motivational quotes.

Some highlights:

•It is physically impossible for Noah to shoot without saying "He looks...he shoots...and he scores."
•"It's my favorite sport. Why?" (Looks off camera for line.) "Because it's very exciting." (Makes layup on 6-foot basket.)
•Noah lists for us the equipment needed to play basketball. I would have thought this was obvious, but I never would have thought to include "socks."
•He cruelly plays keep-away from his sister, for at least 30 seconds past the point of awkwardness, in the name of showing us how to dribble.
•Noah wants to show us how to dunk, but warns us that he might be unable because he's "not so tall." He tries anyway, and fails.
•There's a freaking outtake reel at the end of the video!

Coach Noah leaves us with the words of Michael Jordan, but I'd like to leave you with the words of Noah Chang:

He looks...he shoots...and he scores."

This gentleman is Michael VonKahle, and he really needs to start being more punctual about bringing his 12-year-old to his Pop Warner football practice. When they were late last Friday (it apparently hadn't been the first time), coach William Reynolds made the kid run laps. Then, this:

In his statement to police, VonKahle, 48, said he responded to Reynolds by saying, "If anybody needs to run laps, it should be you, you fat bastard."

Later on in the evening, Reynolds approached VonKahle in the bleachers and asked if they could discuss the matter further. They went to a secluded wooded area, and nothing good happens in secluded wooded areas.

Let's play he said/he said:

That's where, according to VonKahle, Reynolds immediately tossed off his jacket and threw a punch at him, hitting him in the face.

But according to Reynolds, VonKahle threw his own jacket around Reynolds' head and began punching him on the side of the head. Reynolds said he took the jacket off his head and returned punches, and after a brief slew of blows, said to VonKahle, "We had enough?" VonKahle responded "Yeah," according to Reynolds.

VonKahle suffered a fractured eye socket, broken nose and torn rotator cuff (which perhaps lends credence to him throwing a punch), and Reynolds was charged with aggravated assault and battery.

Bet that kid shows up on time next week.

Wilmington Pop Warner Coach To Face Charge Of Assaulting Parent [Boston Globe]

Doctors discovered a brain tumor in Conor Smith in 2007, and just to make this story as sad as possible, they found Leukemia too. That ended his youth basketball season, though he played through his chemotherapy treatments in 2008.

When 2009 tryouts came around last month, Conor couldn't participate because his legs were in casts related to his chemo treatment. So he was cut from the "C" team, the lowest level of the Eagan (Minn.) Traveling Basketball association.

Could there be an exception, I guess there could have been but we try to keep everything according to our policies as best we can," said Beth Koenig, who co-directs the basketball association with her husband Gregg.

OK, here's the part where we use bullet points to hammer home just how dick this move was:

•54 boys were competing for 50 spots. Conor was one of only 4 boys cut. Ooh.
•The league offered to judge Conor based on his performance last season; a season he played while undergoing chemo. Ouch.
•For no apparent reason, they also let Conor's dad go from being a team coach. A volunteer coach. Jesus.

But rules are rules, and god forbid anyone make an exception that could impugn the very integrity of Eagan Traveling Basketball.

Boy Survives Brain Tumor And Cancer, But Is Cut From Youth Basketball Team [KARE]
Boy Beats Cancer, Gets Cut From Basketball Team [SportsbyBrooks]

Jericho Scott was the 9-year-old who briefly became a media sensation when he was deemed "too good" to pitch in his youth league. A year later, Craig Fehrman checks in on Jericho and finds that everyone got the story wrong.

NEW HAVEN, Conn. — Dom Aitro Field sits in a dense, hilly neighborhood, right behind a battered K-4 school where the "Free" in the "Drug Free Zone" sign has been spray-painted over. Still, when the weather's just right, the sunlight and the thick trees circling the field create a shadow that splits the diamond in half, from home to second to center field. The dugouts' peeling aluminum roofs and the wet laundry hanging 15 feet away seem to disappear. Dom Aitro Field becomes the perfect place for baseball.

On Saturday, Aug. 1, the weather's just right, and Mark Gambardella's New Haven All-Stars are playing in the PONY Baseball North Zone Tournament. It's a double-elimination affair, with the winner going to the Mustang (10 and under) World Series. And, in the bottom of the fourth inning of the tournament's first game, Jericho Scott nods at his catcher, takes a deep breath, and winds up.

You remember Jericho, right? Last year, he became a national sensation — the 9-year-old pitcher banned by his league for being "too good." He also became, in what is always a competitive category, the worst-covered sports story of the year.

The New Haven Register inaugurated the Jericho Scott era on Aug. 22, 2008, with a story on the controversy surrounding the Liga Juvenil de Baseball de New Haven. The LJB, an independent inner-city league, had told Wilfred Vidro, Jericho's coach, to stop pitching him because he threw too hard and presented "a danger to other kids in the league." When, two games later, Vidro sent Jericho back to mound, the LJB ruled it a forfeit.

Jericho didn't go viral until a few days later, when the sports blogosphere's major players latched on to a Register follow-up about Jericho's parents protesting the LJB decision. Old media and new media — both followed the same pattern, praising Jericho, mocking the LJB, and lamenting the everyone-gets-a-trophy contagion.

But there was always more to this story. At that non-game, the parents and players of Jericho's team allegedly chanted "losers" and caused enough commotion that the LJB had to escort the other team off the field. Several people heard Jericho's mother curse and threaten league officials. The LJB claims she said: "This will be the last year. Once the lawyer is done they're gonna eat shit and there ain't gonna be a league next year."

It's important to keep those words in mind when you learn the history of the LJB. Formed four years ago, the league and its volunteer staff give about 100 inner-city boys and girls — some fresh from T-ball, others who've never even played sports — the chance to learn, exercise and have fun. Look at what Jericho wore in all those sympathy-inducing pictures: sweatpants, mismatched shoes, an adorably oversized hat — this is not the uniform of cutthroat baseball. Or consider the LJB's response. While the league ended up disbanding Jericho's team, they offered to refund players' $50 registration fees, to put them on different teams, to keep Jericho as a non-pitching player, even to help him find a more competitive league. Most of these details came from Peter Noble, who emerged as the LJB's reluctant spokesman. While reporting this story, I became quite familiar with Noble's voicemail message, which, first in Spanish, then in English, offers daily updates for the after-school tennis program he also runs. He seems like a pretty stand-up guy, even if he never returned my calls.

All this to say that, when LJB officials acted to prevent Jericho from pitching, they acted intelligently and responsibly. They did exactly what a developmental league with a wide range of players should do — ensure that everyone gets a chance, not to win, but to improve. If an athlete becomes too good for his age group, he should move up. Youth sports leagues do this all the time.

Nevertheless, the media sided with Jericho, waving around "too good" as if it were an indictment of the league's actions and letting Jericho's camp get away with outrageous statements like: "It spoil[s] their summer and their childhood"; "He's trying to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders"; and "I'd rather have him in the midst of this controversy on the field than dealing drugs on a street corner," as if those were the only two options. Moreover, the media uncritically aired the Scotts' ever-evolving reasons for refusing the LJB's compromises — the Scotts wanted Jericho to remain with his friends; they wanted this particularly close-knit team to stay together; they wanted (this is my favorite) Jericho "to stay grounded"; or, in what became their final answer, they wanted to stand up to a full-blown conspiracy centering on the league's second-place team, which was sponsored by the LJB president's barber shop. (The kernel of truth: the LJB president was renting a chair in said barber shop while his own business was rehabilitated after a fire.)

This one-sided coverage was bad enough. But the media also overlooked crucial information. Not long ago, I talked to Gambardella, a local legend who's coached PONY baseball for the past 30 years — and Jericho for the past five. "The only reason Jericho went to that other league," Gambardella says, "was, well, I gotta take a vacation sometime."

So, while Gambardella took two weeks off, Jericho and a friend joined the LJB's season in progress, signing with a team that was already 4-0. Over the next five days, Jericho pitched 13 innings in three games, but the LJB was never his primary gig — that was the PONY league and Gambardella's All-Star team, both of which were a cut above the LJB. Yet the Register's viral hit mentions "another league" only in passing, and the AP story that ran on ESPN.com's front page doesn't mention it at all.

Neither did Jericho's parents, of course, since it undermines pretty much everything they've put on the record. Instead, with the entire media as their mouthpiece, the Scotts played the role of aggrieved parents and captured the national imagination. When CBS's Early Show did a short feature on Jericho, it made no attempt to explore the league's side of the story. When the Scotts told the New York Daily News that "five of the [LJB team's] victories were no-hitters that Jericho hurled," the paper fit it into its glowing profile — even though, again, Jericho pitched in only three LJB games.

Which brings us back to Jericho on the mound in New Haven, pitching for a spot in the PONY World Series. Despite the stakes, it's a youth baseball tournament like any other — camping chairs, distracted siblings, maybe 100 spectators in all, with a slight majority for New Haven's opponent, CBC. From a woman who kindly shares her bug spray, I learn that they came from Chesterfield, Va., an eight-hour drive away. It's a more suburban crowd than New Haven's, a sea of khaki shorts, and they like to grumble. "This is a horrible field," says one parent. "How did they get to host this? I mean, really."

Clearly, we're in for a bit of a class war. CBC's kids boast name-brand equipment bags, Space Age batting helmets, and, back home, as another parent proudly informs me, a "baseball complex" recently remodeled for $500,000. New Haven's team, in contrast, is a tough bunch of Italian-, Hispanic-, and African-Americans, and they're representing a city whose Little League barely found enough sponsors to survive. They have . . . well, they have an impressive array of chants.

Nevertheless, by the time Gambardella pulls his ace, New Haven's winning 20-0, and the CBC coach is frothing — literally, I'm afraid — at his players. In comes Jericho. Now, I'm no Keith Law, but I can play one online. One of the more telling sins journalists committed while covering Jericho was wildly overestimating his talents. The Early Show clocked him at 47 mph, but that's actually in line with his age group's averages. (And, again, let's contextualize the hype: In Beyond Belief, Josh Hamilton remembers throwing 70 mph at about the same age.) Jericho does have a smooth, compact delivery and a nice pickoff move, but, more than anything else, he seems really polished. He's a fun-sized Orel Hershiser.

Jericho, or "J," as his teammates call him, strikes out the first CBC hitter on three straight, but then gives up a home run to left, a double to right, a loud out to center, a double to left and another fly out. His final line is one inning, three hits, two runs, one strikeout, but, thanks to the 10-run rule, the game's over. New Haven has its first win.

In its next game, New Haven plays another Connecticut team, Stratford. Gambardella goes with his second-best pitcher, a finesse lefty who quickly gives up six sloppy runs. New Haven chips away, but, in the top of the fourth, they're still down 6-3.

Up to the plate steps Jericho Scott. As in the first game, he's batting ninth and manning second base. If Jericho is one of New Haven's five best players, it's for his defense; later in this game, he'll make the Web Gem of the weekend, a beautiful, bare-handed grab-and-throw. With the bat, his best skill is a preternatural eye at the plate. Against CBC, he walked and struck out looking (it was a terrible call), and here, against Stratford, he carefully works the count.

We're all a little shocked, then, when Jericho just smokes one to center. Stratford's outfielder tracks it, but it's gone — and to the deepest part of the park. Jericho basically skips around the bases; his mom whips out her cell phone and stays on it for the rest of the inning. New Haven never looks back, winning 13-6.

CBC's brain trust sticks around to watch the game, though the parents and players head back to the hotel. As New Haven starts sing-songing through another chant, the CBC coach shakes his head. "That is such an obnoxious team."

Whatever else they said, no one from CBC (or the other teams) mentioned Jericho's past. It seems unlikely that this was out of respect. Instead, even youth baseball junkies forgot one of 2008's noisiest stories.

While that story began online, it quickly crossed over to talk radio, then TV, with the Scotts receiving overtures from Letterman, Leno, Ellen, even Dr. Phil. But Jericho's biggest impact came in sports columns and blogs, where, as always, the Youth Sports Scandal was packaged as a simple allegory for decidedly grown-up concerns.

Journalists from as far afield as Idaho's Lewiston Morning-Tribune and Michigan's Grand Rapids Press weighed in. They worried about Jericho and his poor parents, raised a fist against Big Brother, linked the LJB to the subprime mortgage crisis. "Sort of makes you glad Michael Phelps didn't splash the water at the local swimming pool too hard when he was a kid, scaring the other kids," wrote one wordsmith. "Next, let's yell at him for being too good at math," opined another. (The blogosphere arguably outdid their print brethren. See this post, lovingly titled, "The Tale of Jericho Scott: Trophies For All! Let's Turn Our Kids Into Sissies! Why Not Socialism, Too?") Such reactions make it pretty clear why the story took off. It was never about Jericho. It was never even about sports. Instead, it was about one of our great national myths, an anxiety that dates back at least to the dawn of the 20th century. For a short while, Jericho Scott's story was Exhibit A in The Gradual Pussification of America.

Well into the fall — and well after the LJB season had ended — the Scotts kept their cause alive. They organized various fundraisers, from washing cars to selling memorabilia autographed by Jericho. And Jericho began lending his celebrity to other (actual) causes, attending a walk to fight sickle-cell anemia. This led to probably the low-point in the whole mess, when Gary Smart, who serves on the Sickle Cell Disease Association of America's national board of directors, told the Register, "Jericho's case is similar, in that he, too, is being set aside."

But the rest of the world had moved on. Or, more accurately, the media had moved on. Leno et al. probably lost interest after seeing the Early Show; it's hard to make compelling TV out of a cute kid who can't quite make eye contact. But the LJB held a press conference that, according to several accounts, was well attended. Even the Register's reporting improved — notably in Dave Solomon's column, which briefly quoted Gambardella. Here, then, were important updates, fresh angles, genuine news.

But if the media brought Jericho's story to life, they just as quickly left it for dead. (See the stalagmite-looking Google Trends graph.) Why? Perhaps they felt trapped by their own righteous reactions. Perhaps they needed to move on to the next big thing. Or perhaps it was never a story so much as a platform, with Jericho serving as a 58-pound human soap box.

On Sunday, Aug. 2, New Haven plays CBC again, and, this time, CBC jumps out to a big lead. Their fans, who apparently spent Saturday night cooking up their own chants, explode. "Give me a C!"/"C!!!" and so on, ending with, "What does that sound [?] like?"/"CBC!!!" In the dugout, their coach prowls. "Let's give 'em some of their own medicine."

In the top of the fifth, New Haven starts a mini-rally when Jericho steals home. (Throughout the tournament, New Haven runs the bases like the '82 Cardinals.) As he gets up, though, lightning flashes across the sky. The umps push the game to Monday.

Later that afternoon, the sun comes out, and I check back at the field. It's empty, except for four CBC parents. Three are on their hands and knees in the mud, bailing water with styrofoam cups; the fourth is taking pictures to document the now-playable field. If New Haven's fans seem like a more combustible mix — they include not only Jericho's parents, but also Vidro, his old coach and new team's rowdiest fan — it's the CBC contingent who, this weekend, at least, comes off as arrogant, entitled, paranoid and downright mean. The beauty of it is that, just like in Jericho's case, everyone claims to be "about the kids." "We just want them to play tomorrow," is how one of the muddy CBC parents puts it to me. "We don't want it to come down to a coin flip."

It's no surprise when sports parents behave badly (I won't even waste our time on the call to the cops after Saturday's game), but more than anything, more than a small youth league doing what small youth leagues always do, it was that blend of eccentricity and overcommitment that lay at the heart of Jericho's saga. The story of a 9-year-old boy who was "too good" was in fact the story of adults — parents and journalists alike — who were ultimately too childish.

On Monday, Aug. 3, the weather returns to just right, and CBC quickly finishes yesterday's business, 14-4.

One final game, then, to decide who goes to the PONY World Series. CBC turns to a short kid who throws a 12-6 changeup, if that's possible, and it's devastating. He easily strikes out Jericho, who leads off this game. In the bottom of the first, CBC scores five quick runs. Their fans are delirious.

New Haven fights back, tying it 7-7, but that's as close as they get. In the bottom of the fourth, with New Haven now trailing 14-7, Jericho comes in to pitch. It's a tough spot — two on and CBC's third baseman-slash-manchild at the plate — and Jericho struggles. A sharp single to right, a walk, a double to right-center, and it's over. CBC wins on the ten run rule, 17-7. As New Haven's fans graciously applaud, the CBC coach careens on to the field, slapping kids on the head and screaming, "That's it! That's it, right?" No fewer than fifteen parents charge down from the stands, all armed with digital cameras and camcorders. The CBC kids seem . . . relieved.

Jericho Scott pushes back his hat, keeps his composure, looks at Gambardella, then at his parents. More than anything, he seems shocked at how quickly it ended.

Craig Fehrman is a writer and grad student living in New Haven. You can find more of his work here.

Top photo via am New York. Second photo via The Grand News' Flickr account.

On Tuesday Mackenzie Brown became the first girl to throw a perfect game in Bayonne Little League history. Her reward? Today she gets to pitch for the New York Mets. She'll throw out the first pitch before the Mets take on the Washington Nationals at CitiField — finally Jerry Manuel has a reliable starter — as part of a whirlwind publicity tour that has included newspaper and TV interviews and a mention on SportsCenter.

From the Star Ledger of New Jersey:

Norman Brown expressed countless thanks to a mysterious voice on the other end of his cell phone. He then snapped it shut and turned to his 12-year-old daughter, Mackenzie.

"Yo dawg," he said, thrusting his arms in her direction, "you're throwing out the first pitch at the Mets game on Saturday!"

Brown retired all 18 batters she faced on Tuesday, striking out 12; including the last six of the game in succession. This season is her baseball swan song, however.

When her Little League career ends at the conclusion of this season, she will make the switch to softball. She has enjoyed her heyday playing ball with the boys but has aspirations of a chance to play college sports — either in softball or basketball, in which she's a highly touted point guard.

The Nationals, of course, are also thankful that she's only throwing one pitch today.

Bayonne Girl's Perfect Game Gains National Recognition [Star-Ledger]
12-Year Old Girl Pitches Perfect Game Against Boys, Opposing Players Blame Cooties [Sportress]

Meet Marlon Wade, who has been coaching 11-12 year-olds in the Saraland Baseball Association for the past six years. Among his other hobbies are drug trafficking, theft and assault; he was arrested on Thursday while in possession of $24,000 worth of cocaine and an unregistered weapon. In fact, Wade has 22 prior arrests on charges of disorderly conduct, theft and assault.

On the bright side, Wade's team was the best-equipped Little League squad in the world.

So what was he doing coaching Little League? Hey, background checks are expensive.

"It's expensive to do them, but that's not an excuse," said Todd Edge, Commissioner for the Saraland Baseball Association. "We have 150 coaches in the baseball park. I talked to some independent agencies. It's 40 dollars per coach to do a background check, so you're talking about six thousand dollars. We don't get city funding."

Edge also said that Wade has been permanently banned from coaching in the league. That'll teach him.

Coach Caught With Cocaine [WKRG-TV]
Who Checked The Coach? [NBC15]

You remember Michael Kinahan, who sent a quite insane email to parents of his Massachusetts 6- and 7-year-old girls soccer team that got him ousted before the season even began (Excerpt: "I expect that the ladies be put on a diet of fish, undercooked red meat and lots of veggies. No junk food."). I first saw the story at the Quincy (Mass.) Patriot-Ledger, which presented it as their own reporting.

But David Portnoy, the founding editor of the blog Barstool Sports, had it first, and the Patriot Ledger cribbed his post for their story four days later. How does Portnoy know that his was copied? He had changed a couple of the names for privacy reasons, and the Patriot Ledger had those altered names in their piece.

"I don't know that they did it intentionally," Portnoy told me by phone today. "It's not the biggest deal in the world. But the story really took off and got a lot of attention, and it would have been nice to get some credit for it. We don't have an opportunity like that very often."

Portnoy told me that he got wind of the story from "the friend of one of the parents (of the team in question)."

"He forwarded me the email, and we did a post on that. Then a few days later the coach resigned, and I posted on that the next day. Then the Patriot Ledger picked it up and the story caught fire."

The Patriot Ledger ran this story on March 31. Bartstool Sports had this on March 27, and this on March 30. So Wednesday, Portnoy sent an email to the newspaper, asking, 'Hey, what gives?' He got this reply:

Dave,
We had a copy of the email from another parent, but apparently copied the version from your site without credit. That was a mistake and we apologize for that. We should have used our own copy. If it's any consolation, this kind of thing happens to us often. We don't like it, which is another reason we should have been more careful.

AP picked up the story from us, which is we you're seeing the credit on other sites. The LA Times and other sites credited the Herald.

We have gone into our site and added the credit to the original story and the folo, along with links to your site.

Hope that explains what happened.

Ken Johnson
Online editor

So the Patriot-Ledger had an email that was forwarded by a parent.... but copied Barstool's account by mistake. I see.

"The story was on PTI, you guys had it, it went crazy," Portnoy said. "But I soon realized that the reason we weren't getting credit was that the Patriot Ledger didn't mention us. Hey, they did apologize. I was just hoping that somehow a few people would know it originally came from us."

Portnoy, who does this is his only job, has been running Barstool for three years out of his home in Boston. Here is his office. Ha. Oh, and you can commemorate this whole incident with a handsome Green Death T-shirt, available on his site. If Portnoy can find one to send you in that toxic mess.

Reader Email – Would You Want Your Daughter To Play For "Green Death" In The Girls Under 8 League In Scituate? [Barstool Sports]

Kinahan resigned as the coach of the 6- and 7-year-old girls team (not pictured) before the season even started, due to a hilarious and possibly insane email sent to parents as a way to introduce himself. Rather than try to explain it, let's get right to the fun. This portion of the letter is aimed at the sideline behavior of the parents, and is possibly my favorite part:

It is imperative that we all fight the good fight, get involved now and resist the urge to become sweat-xedo-wearing yuppies who sit on the sidelines in their LL Bean chairs sipping mocha-latte-half-caf-chinos while discussing reality TV and home decorating with other feeble-minded folks. I want to hear cheering, I want to hear encouragement, I want to get the team pumped up at each and every game and know they are playing for something.

Other excerpts (keep in mind this team is comprised of 6- and 7-year-old girls):

OK, here's the real deal: Team 7 will be called Green Death. We will only acknowledge "Team 7" for scheduling and disciplinary purposes. Green Death has had a long and colorful history, and I fully expect every player and parent to be on board with the team. This is not a team, but a family (some say cult), that you belong to forever. We play fair at all times, but we play tough and physical soccer. We have some returning players who know the deal; for the others, I only expect 110% at every game and practice. We do not cater to superstars, but prefer the gritty determination of journeymen who bring their lunch pail to work every week, chase every ball and dig in corners like a Michael Vick pit bull. Unless there is an issue concerning the health of my players or inside info on the opposition, you probably don't need to talk to me.

I believe winning is fun and losing is for losers. Ergo, we will strive for the "W" in each game. While we may not win every game (excuse me, I just got a little nauseated) I expect us to fight for every loose ball and play every shift as if it were the finals of the World Cup. While I spent a good Saturday morning listening to the legal liability BS, which included a 30 minute dissertation on how we need to baby the kids and especially the refs, I was disgusted. The kids will run, they will fall, get bumps, bruises and even bleed a little. Big deal, it's good for them (but I do hope the other team is the one bleeding). If the refs can't handle a little criticism, then they should turn in their whistle. The sooner they figure out how to make a decision and live with the consequences the better. My heckling of the refs is actually helping them develop as people. The political correctness police are not welcome on my sidelines.

America's youth is becoming fat, lazy and non-competitive because competition is viewed as "bad". I argue that competition is good and is important to the evolution of our species and our survival in what has become an increasingly competitive global economy and dangerous world. Second place trophies are nothing to be proud of as they serve only as a reminder that you missed your goal; their only useful purpose is as an inspiration to do that next set of reps. Do you go to a job interview and not care about winning? Don't animals eat what they kill (and yes, someone actually kills the meat we eat too – it isn't grown in plastic wrap)? And speaking of meat, I expect that the ladies be put on a diet of fish, undercooked red meat and lots of veggies. No junk food.

Who's with me? Go Green Death!

Hilarity did not ensue. From Kinahan's resignation letter:

Team, After careful consideration, I have decided to resign from all coaching responsibilities related to Team 7 this season. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that some parents and the Board of Scituate Soccer failed to see the humor in my pre-season email.

And finally, from the Quincy Patriot Ledger mailbag:

• Spectacular.... too bad these girls will have their coach replaced by some Starbucks sipping, land rover driving parent with no love and/or knowledge of the game. But on the bright side, everyone will get a trophy and there will be oranges for all during timeouts. I'd let my daughter play for this man in a heartbeat. — johnny_moore 2 hours ago

• I think judge smails said it best; 'The man's a menace!' — undacovabrotha 4 hours ago

Scituate "Green Death" Soccer Coach Resigns [Patriot Ledger]

Ray Floriani is a blogger who doubles as a youth basketball ref in the Orange, N.J., area. On Monday he found himself officiating a sixth-grade boys game between South Orange and West Orange, the latter team being coached by Sen. Richard Codey, D-NJ.

We get going and early on South Orange gets out to a lead. Codey shows a little of the mentor that works about a half mile down the road by debating a few calls or no calls. Still, he is working hard genuinely teaching and encouraging his kids. On one play I call a three seconds on his player. 'His foot wasn’t in the lane,' Codey protests, 'Coach it was,' I answer politely. Plus I gave him about five seconds.' "

"During a time out, my partner comes over and tells me Codey wants a Technical on the South Orange cheerleaders. 'Why,' I ask. 'He said they are too loud and he can’t think.' I suggest to my partner let’s just move on.

Codey, whose team lost by 32, was acting governor of New Jersey when Jim McGreevey resigned in 2004. He also once introduced a bill to remove the word "idiot" from the New Jersey Constitution. So you know that in order to break that iron concentration, those cheerleaders must have been really raucous!

Thou Shalt Not Tech The Cheerleaders [Rush The Court]

If there’s one thing I know about youth sports it’s this: Parents will not stop until they’ve squeezed every bit of fun out of the experience, and their children are left trembling, nervous wrecks. Why couldn’t they just let me stay home and watch cartoons?! Um, I mean, let them stay home. Here are some prime examples:

• Nine-year-old banned from his Little League because he pitches too hard. Naturally, lawsuits ensue.

• Miss your snack bar shift and feel the terrible wrath of the Freetown Youth Athletic Association.

• Your 7-year-old won't wear his Packers jersey? Get the masking tape.

• What would 2008 be without Mitch Williams being ejected from a girls youth basketball game for swearing at the refs?

• Now you can't even attend your 5-year-old daughter's soccer game while packing a Glock 26? Is this Russia?

• Where is the woman from the previous item when you need her?

• You're nine, you play Little League, and Dusty Baker is your coach. Hilarity ensues.

• Ten reasons the Little League World Series sucks.

• The fine art of racial profiling, when all the athletes in question are black.

A youth soccer coach went to the middle of a sports field in Windsor after a contentious match and pulled down his pants, exposing his buttocks to his opponents — a team of 14 and 15-year-old girls, authorities said today.

Several of the girls (more accurately, their parents) were so offended by the lunar sighting that they called the cops, and now the DA's office is currently deciding whether to prosecute. It all depends on the context, I suppose. Youth soccer coach mooning 15-year-old girls equals bad. Joe Gibbs mooning Belichick for running up the score equals hero.

Girls Soccer Coach Suspended After Exposing Himself [SFGate]

A Long Island woman has been charged with hitting her daughter's soccer coach with a folding chair because he gave her bad directions to a game, the police said yesterday. The woman, Alicia Vigil, 33, of East Rockaway, was arrested at her home on Monday and charged with reckless endangerment, the Nassau County police said. She is charged with swinging a folding chair and hitting the coach in the face.

Oh, and ...

Cops said that as a parting shot, Vigil scratched a van she believed belonged to the coach.

Onlookers said that Vigil was mad that Nassau Queens coach Sam Schwarzman, 67, had stopped sending her e-mail directions to games. The coach suffered a cut to the lip and cheek in the attack. The girls soccer team is composed of 11- and 12-year-olds.

In her defense, the coach did say right on Spring, left on Juniper, and everyone knows Juniper is a dead end.

East Rockaway: Soccer Mom Is Charged [New York Times]
Long Island Socker Mom Busted [New York Post]
Just Another Peaceful Day Of Youth Baseball On Long Island [Deadspin]

The Fugees are indeed all refugees, from the most troubled corners — Afghanistan, Bosnia, Burundi, Congo, Gambia, Iraq, Kosovo, Liberia, Somalia and Sudan. Some have endured unimaginable hardship to get here: squalor in refugee camps, separation from siblings and parents. One saw his father killed in their home.

Their story is about children with miserable pasts trying to make good with strangers in a very different and sometimes hostile place. But as a season with the youngest of the three teams revealed, it is also a story about the challenges facing resettled refugees in this country. More than 900,000 have been admitted to the United States since 1993, and their presence seems to bring out the best in some people and the worst in others.

Plenty to think about here, not all of it good. At any rate, a change of pace from the usual youth sports nonsense that we're all used to. We'd suggest doing yourself a favor and reading it if you've got some time. Though if you're lazy, don't worry: Warren St. John, the author (and editor and author of Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer) has the inevitable movie deal all set up.

Refugees Find Hostility And Hope On Soccer Field [New York Times, via Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer]
Parents Use Mobiles To Foil Penalties [Manchester Evening News]