Recently I read a story about a coach of a youth baseball team who injured the umpire. And it took me back to the awful behavior of many parents–including myself, at youth sporting events.

This coach did not like a call at the home plate and confronted the umpire and was most unruly, and then, the umpire kicked him out of the game. At that point the coach violently pushed the umpire down, resulting in the umpire being taken away in an ambulance.

Little league events as well as adult sporting events have seen parents and fans lose total control and involve themselves in the most disgusting name-calling and yelling, which too often erupts into physical violence, and this violence can happen even on the field.

In my junior year of high school, on a Saturday football game, I had an anger blackout and was kicked out of the game. As I sat on the bench, my friends explained that I had picked up a young man from the opposing team, had thrown him on the ground, and then, I had leaped into the air landing on his chest with both my knees and then I had begun beating him with my fists. They did the right thing by kicking me out of the game, but I still wonder what wound up that violence in me and why I let it escape.

Everyone wants their kids to win, and they often push their kids to the limit and, as parents, they get out of control, which is an awful example for a child. I used to be one of those crude and rude parents who paced the sidelines of the youth football league yelling insults at the referees and my son. Years later visiting a football game in which my grandson was playing, I watched my son Kim getting as ugly as I had been years ago. It made me sick to my stomach to see him repeating what I had done to him.

I finally got up the courage and led him away from the sidelines and said “Kim what you are doing out there is wrong, violent, and ugly. I know I did that to you and your sports team when you were young, but I was wrong. I know you are a better man and hope you will stop repeating what I did so many years ago”. Then, he looked at me and finally said “okay pops”.

When my daughter Aviva was about 12 and a goalkeeper for her team, she dove for a ball headed towards the net that could have resulted in a goal for the opposing team. Aviva jumped on the ball holding it close to her chest. A girl trailing the ball threw another kick, hitting Aviva on the head. Aviva’s coach jumped onto the field cursing at the other team and I ran to Aviva to see if she was okay and covered her as two raging coaches yelled and pushed at each other inches from Aviva’s body.

Later I wondered why both coaches didn’t just make sure my daughter was okay instead of fighting with each other. Aviva later asked what I would have done if one of the men would have taken out their anger on me. I told her that I would try to walk away and if they started hitting me that I would wrestle them down to the ground and hold them there till their anger subsided. Earlier in life, I had been a good wrestler and knew how to take down people and hold on to them.

When parents put winning over just playing the game and having a good time, they lose sight of the goals of team sports.

At one point in my life, I coached a team of 12-year-old boys in American football. And preached that our team would not focus on winning but would more importantly have fun in practice and in the games and, of course, we would always like to win. The truth is we never won a game, but we did have a great time.

On Monday we would put every name in a hat and if your name was selected, you could choose what position you wanted to play in the game the coming Saturday for the first half of the game, and then, in the second half, we would play according to our best players positions. Thus, kids would have an opportunity to be the kicker, quarterback, running back, receiver, linebacker, or any other position. I felt kids should know how it is to play more than one position. We had some good athletes whose parents took them off the team since winning was not our only goal.

Every week, the league would give coaches $50 for our coaching services. At first, we spent the money on equipment, and then, we decided to have a team meeting on how to spend the money, so each week, we as a team voted to spend the money after the game on pizza, candy, or ice cream; water pistols or whatever they wanted. The rule was: don’t tell your parents that we overdosed on Pizza!

Just to be fair, I was not a very good coach, nor were my assistants, but we had fun as we taught a different way to play a sport and not let it erupt into violence.

Professional hockey looks at times like a street brawl. I don’t understand why they don’t stop these fights after the first punch is thrown and kick the player off the ice.

Violence and anger from our youthful experiences raise their ugly head once we are adults in everything from child and spousal abuse to the use of lethal weapons.

Hiring more police is not the easy answer to curb violence; it is much more complex than that. We must reach down into our neighborhoods and families to teach fairness and love.

Violence can get into our heart and brain quicker than any coronavirus and it cannot be easily detected or cured. But we can start to diminish violence by making love the foundation of our living.