Our goal heading in was to finish off the piccolo player and make him quit, and I think we probably accomplished that. After telling the kids the league was implementing kickoffs (not true), I set up a kickoff return drill where the piccolo player was the designated "wedge breaker.
At the end of practice, I brought in a couple of hair stylists from the local Sport Clips to give “high and tights” to the kids whose parents ignored my instructions. Most of the kids were excited to be getting the exact same haircut as me (next thing you know they'll be wearing wraparound Oakleys, a cell phone belt holster, black jeans, and white LA Gears), but the piccolo player started crying and initially refused to get in the chair because he wanted to keep his stupid bowl cut. So my DC told him that he would personally destroy his entire woodwinds collection if he didn't follow instructions, and the kid finally got in the chair and got his haircut.
After the haircuts were finished, the piccolo player's father – who is the choral director at the local middle school and wears Chaco sandals with socks – came to pick him up and was beyond pissed when he saw his son's haircut. He was in tears (now we know where the son gets it) and asked me what kind of monster trying to re-live high school glory days forces a kid to get his hair cut against his will. I told him a three-year letterman who wins championships. I added that if he took the same no holds barred approach to choral directing, perhaps last year's Christmas cantata wouldn't have sucked so bad. I have no idea what a cantata is or if the middle school chorus even puts one on, but it was the best comeback I could come up with in the heat of the moment. He stormed off, and my DC started singing scales at him as he and his kid got in his Geo Prism and took off.
My guess is that we've seen the last of that kid, so there's one down.