The kids will mimic what they see
You damn umpires all suck! What are you looking at? Where did they find you guys?
You are the worst refs ever! How do you miss that call? It's tough to win when we have to beat two teams!
At some point every coach has thought, said, or even yelled those things above. Those who think it are probably right, those who say it are hopefully doing it away from the kids, and those who yell it are just plain wrong.
I have never wanted one of my kids, players, or teams to blame a loss on an umpire or official, no matter how bad they might have been. To me, that is just making an excuse and deflecting blame. Every coach must ask themselves after a loss, what they could or should have done differently, or what can I do in the future to try and prevent that from happening again. The moment you start to use umpires and officials as excuses, your teams and players will begin to do the same thing.
If a young player sees his coach constantly yelling at umpires or officials, then why wouldn't they feel that things are unfair? Why would they keep competing if they feel that they already have an excuse for losing? Why wouldn't they feel that if their adult coach can verbally abuse an umpire or official, then it is okay for them to question and reject the umpires or officials too?
Have there been times when I've gotten on officials? Absolutely. Have there been times when I've questioned umpires? Very often. However, over the years I've learned that the kids you coach watch you closely and feed off of how you treat umpires and officials.
Let me give a few examples:
Very early on in my coaching career I was a JV assistant for boys basketball. The head coach was one of my closest friends, but our temperaments during games were very different. We were playing a very tightly contested road game and the officials were in over their head. They were not calling the game very tightly, and our head coach at the time was losing his mind. The officials were either too oblivious to "T" up our coach or they were waiting to make an example out of him. During the second half, one of our better players that night raised his hands in protest to one of the official's calls and was immediately given a technical. Per our team policy, that player had to sit the rest of the game. I had a hard time sitting that kid, because he was clearly following the actions he had seen and heard from the head coach. Why wouldn't he protest the call? The head coach had been doing the same thing all night? Down the stretch we made some key mistakes and ended up losing by a few points. As I walk into the locker room I hear one of my most soft-spoken and intelligent players say that the reason we lost was because the officiating was "bullshit." I almost came unglued on the kid because he must have forgotten the countless mistakes we made down the stretch. How could one of the kindest kids I'd ever had in class or the court dare say something like that in front of one of their coaches? It wasn't until a few years later that I learned the answer.
As a basketball coach I was given the nickname "The Cool-Cat" by the other coaches on staff and in the program. While it was equally a jab at my hair-style, the other coaches often remarked how calm I would remain in the biggest situations. I never showed my emotions and was always focused on the next situation or play. Well, a few years later at a different school "The Cool-Cat" took a night off.
It was the Thursday before Christmas break, the time of year where most teachers who coach are most in need of a break. We had made a long bus ride to play a team in a small town. I was coaching 8th grade boys basketball at the time. It became very obvious during the 7th grade game that the officials were not very good at all. I'm not sure one official would blow his whistle if he was drowning and a life-guard was looking the other way. The other official seemed to only know how to blow the whistle on one team. Prior to our game I did not think my team was particularly focused. Combine all of these factors together and a storm was brewing.
Naturally, we came out and got off to a poor start and the calls were not going our way. The fouls were 8-2 in the other teams favor and we were down by 8 at halftime, primarily because we had been outscored 6-0 from the foul-line. Instead of going in the locker room and re-grouping the kids and talking about what we were going to change to come back and win, I went on a two minute tirade about the officiating and how I was planning on getting a technical. I told the boys why I was going to get a technical and how I expected them to act when I did. I was blaming everything on the officials. I concluded with our adjustments, but the kids took the court waiting for me to explode.
Well, our adjustments worked and we ended up closing the margin to 1 point to end the third quarter, yet I was still riding the one official who wouldn't blow his whistle pretty good. We come out in the 4th quarter and score immediately to take the lead for the first time. Somewhere in the next sequence or two my best player gets called for a questionable foul and raises his hands to the official. He is immediately given a technical, which resulted in his 5th foul. The other team made both free throws and went on to win the game. After the game I continued to blame the officials and gave them an earful on their way off the court. It was completely out of character for me and I believe cost us the game. More importantly, I had no right to criticize my best player for picking up his 5th foul on a technical because he was just following my lead.
Ironically, that same team and I encountered a similar situation later in the season. We made another long road trip, but this time we were playing for the conference championship. I had heard the the officials we would have would be the biggest "homers" I'd ever encounter. I laughed it off. I felt confident with how we were playing and was looking forward to winning the school's first conference boy's basketball championship in over a decade.
Well, the scouting report was pretty accurate. At one point the fouls were 10-0 against us and a number of our best players were in foul trouble. I was trying to remain calm and model to the team what I had always believed; don't blame the officials. The 10th call against us was a particularly horrible blocking call that was not even close. I started to get upset when I heard one of my quietest players say, "this is bullshit." I don't know if it was a flashback to almost 10 years earlier or what, but almost instantaneously threw my bottled water at that players feet. It slammed off the bleachers and I was immediately on that player for his language and blaming the officials. Deep down I knew he felt emboldened to say that because of how I had acted about a month earlier. The parents thought I was reacting to the officials, but I was truly reacting to my player's treatment of the officials. We went into halftime up by 6 points and when I walked in the boys were already complaining about the refs. I calmly told them to be quiet and listen. I told them that nobody, including myself, was going to say a single word to the officials during the second half. We were going to focus on ourselves and earn this win regardless of the situation. Whether it was my words, demeanor, or approach, it was probably the single greatest half of basketball any of my teams has ever played. Early in the 4th quarter we were up by over 20 points and got to clear the bench. Every kid but two scored that game, but they all contributed to a championship clinching victory. I had never been more proud of a team and how they responded to bad officiating. I hope that group learned to never blame officials or anybody for their problems after that.
Later that summer I was coaching my 9U travel baseball team. We were playing in our biggest tournament and we were in a tense game. We were down by a run with 2 outs and a runner on third. Our kid at third had just hit a triple, which clearly rattled the pitcher who had thrown the entire six innings up to that point. The next pitch he goes into his wind-up and just stops. I'm not sure what happened, but we all knew had just balked. Our kids and parents start jumping up and down as we had found a way to tie up the game. The kid on the mound knew what he had done as he slumped his shoulders and nodded his head when the umpire waived in our runner from third. But suddenly all of this jubilation was brought to a screeching halt when the opposing coaches reminded the umpires of an agreement we made nearly 2 hours ago. Prior to the game I had reluctantly agreed to give each pitcher one balk warning throughout the game. The other coaches seized upon this to try and cling to the lead. The umpire who had called the balk was not there prior to the game, so he did not know about this arrangement. I had quite honestly forgot about it. I watched this kid pitch for 6 innings without even coming close to a balk, but now at this moment, the opposing coaches and umpires were going to find a loophole to not allow the tying run to score.
As our fans were screaming and protesting, partially because they're fanatically but primarily because they had no idea about the agreement, I was trying to plead the case for our team. Yet, in the back of my head I didn't want to tie the game like that. I wanted to win it because we were better. I wanted our kids to earn the victory. I didn't want them to be handed something because of a rule. What kind of lesson is that to teach kids? What would they have learned if I stomped around and screamed, maybe even got ejected because I valued winning more than modeling good behavior?
"The Cool-Cat" came out amid all of the chaos. While fans on both sides were still protesting and the opposing coach was out on the mound trying to calm down his pitcher, I remember walking down the third base line and telling my player that we didn't want to tie the game up like that. I told him that I wanted to see him drive in the tying run. The last thing I told him was that no matter what happened I would love him no matter what.
After two pitches the count was quickly 0-2 and I was immediately thinking about how the umpires had cost us the game. Simultaneously, I asked our hitter to step out and asked him to think about what I had just said to him. He took a deep breath and stepped back in the box. The next pitch he roped a double and the game was tied. It seemed so poetic at the time, but more importantly that kid has a memory and story that he can tell the rest of his life.
We went on to lose that game by one run, but the other team earned the victory. However, some of the greatest lessons come from defeats in life. I am currently in my third season with these boys and families and I can honestly say that not once have I heard one of them say that we lost because of the umpires. Not once have those kids ever seen me yell at an umpire. Not once have those parents had to go home or sit in their car and explain to their kids why I was acting the way that I was on the that field. I have never and will never have to justify to a kid why I was yelling at an umpire.
Ever since that JV basketball game over 10 years ago, I learned how powerful a coach's actions are on his team. Players learn the virtue of respect by watching their coaches. Youth coaches have the opportunity to support or destroy the messages that our being taught in homes. A kid can have dozens of good coaches, but it only takes one bad one to lower their respect level and open the door to making excuses. As youth coaches we have a responsibility to teach the game, but a bigger responsibility to help prepare our players for the game of life. There is no better way to do that than through our actions towards those who umpire and officiate our games.
