PrintThis article by Joel Levy was published in the The Highland Park Mirror.
So I’m on the bus ride back from our soccer game up in Paramus. It happens that I am coaching my daughter’s high school soccer team, and we have an away game. We lose the game, but that is another story. The van ride up to the game is pretty uneventful, with the usual chatter of high school girls and the sounds of teenagers singing along to the radio. I am in the front seat next to the driver, writing out plays for the game, and the list of starters and subs for each position.
As we arrive, the driver is asking me how long the game will be and what time I think he needs to be back for us. Something about the way he was asking had me concerned, but I brushed it off as we needed to get into the gym to play our game.
We all pile into the van to go home at the end of the night’s activity, and the van driver is unusually quiet. He doesn’t move until I tell him, “Hey, let’s go”. Right away, I sense he is not the same as when he drove us up to the game. He nearly misses our exit for Rt. 17 South, and swerves wildly to get on it, just a little too much for my comfort.
Next thing I know, he is flying down the parkway south at dangerously high speeds, in the far left lane, cutting over to get around people in the center lanes who are driving closer to the speed limit. At first I tell myself, “He got us here just fine, don’t be paranoid…” Then I notice he is barely able to stay in the lane he is in, causing cars to the right of us to swerve out of his way as he repeatedly cuts partially into their lane.
Now I’m starting to burn. I’m thinking, not only is my kid in this van, but you’ve got a van full of other people’s kids, and you have a responsibility to get them home safely. You just don’t have the right to drive that way with someone else’s kid(s) in the vehicle. Let alone you own kids, or an adult passenger, for that matter. I tell him, “Hey, slow down, we all want to live you know!?” He just chuckles and keeps on driving.
Now I’m thinking, ok, I wonder if I can knock him unconscious and throw him out of the vehicle, and take control of the van without the kids noticing. That’s when I realize I have watched way too many action movies! Meantime, I am texting the head of the school, giving him a play by play of the dangerous behavior of the driver. Finally, when the lanes on the Parkway merge, and traffic slows down almost to a stop, he is barreling straight for the car in front of us at high speed.
There is no doubt in my mind that we are about to have a serious accident. I quickly turn off the radio, and scream at him, “SLOW DOWN!!!” The shock of this causes him to slow down just in time to not smash into the line of cars in front of us, which are now at a stop. Then I unleash a verbal assault on him, about the way he is driving the van. He looks at me, and I look at him back as if to say, “I dare you!” I’m not trying to be macho here, but he has the lives of my team in his hand, and I am definitely a protective poppa bear.
I continue to text the school director, who has someone call the driver. After the call, the driver is going s-u-p-e-r- s-l-o-w on purpose, just to make a point. I don’t care at this point, as long as we get back safely.
All I can think is that if I were not on the van, there is a very good chance they would have had a very bad accident. I ask the girls, if they have ever had this driver before, and I can’t believe what they said. They said, “It’s a good thing you yelled at him when you did, because we were terrified.” They continue to tell me, “You don’t understand, coach, they all drive like that.” I say, “Who all drives like that?” They say, “All the van drivers.”
WHAT?!!! Not if I have something to say about it, and I most definitely do!
Parents, please talk you your kids. Ask them about their day. Ask them about the bus driver. Ask them about everything. Ninety nine percent of the time, you have nothing to worry about. But, believe me; people will behave much more responsibly when they know you are checking up on them.
In my own search for answers to these questions years ago, I came across some hard-core bodyguard training. Like many others, I thought bodyguards were just big scary guys that beat people up. And I did meet some that were ‘monsters’ — at least on the outside — but I also met others that were maybe 5’3” and 120 pounds.