We hear it all the time, whether it is in the media, from fans, or even coaches and parents yelling it at officials:  one controversial call, and that official blew the game for a team.

News flash:  that's false.

It's easy to pinpoint one call in a game that is the turning point and can decide the outcome of a contest.  But when we do that, we are no longer admiring the proverbial forest for the trees.  We delineate an entire competition down to one moment, which makes for fantastic drama, but seldom represents reality.  (In fact, maybe Hollywood could learn another lesson on how to not poison us moving forward...)

Anytime there is a close call in the later stages of a game, an official has to make a split second decision, which will usually please half of the people present and upset the other half.  It's not a situation that is enviable by most, including the official.  After all, it's not like the official could have avoided trouble if he or she had made the opposite call:  the roles would just be reversed with the upset half now happy and the happy half now upset.

But what happens when replays show us a blown call that can't be changed?  Or what happens when a coach or parent (or even player) sees it one way and the official sees it differently?  The common conclusion is that the official was clearly wrong and is the sole culprit for the outcome of the contest.  However, the truth is the exact opposite.

During the course of any sporting event, a multitude of action will occur that can alter the balance of power defined as who is "winning."  Baseball changes with each pitch.  Football changes with each play from scrimmage.  Tennis changes with each serve.  The list goes on.  Seldom does anyone realize that every single one of these actions can affect the course of a game an equal or greater amount than the call of one official at a moment that is slightly highlighted.  In short, every time a coach tells me the one call I made cost his team the game, I remind myself that the team had ample opportunities to prevent me from even having to make that call.  Although I take responsibility for the call, I'm not the reason that team lost.

Further, there's an even greater notion at stake that people fail to recall in these situations:  great teams overcome bad calls.

The teams that win are the ones that don't stop to argue about the bad calls.  The teams that win are the ones that shrug them off and overcome them to the point where the bad call didn't matter.

When a marathon runner trips during the marathon, does he or she stop to examine the spot where he or she fell?  Does the runner complain to anyone and everyone about how it is the fault of the ground for causing the runner to lose time?  No!  The runner gets up and hurries along to make up for the lost time!

The same goes for great teams and great athletes.

The snow in New Jersey throughout March kept me from most of my baseball scrimmages, leaving me all of two games (only one behind the plate) to be ready for the regular season.  However, one play during my final game proved a very important point.

With a runner on first base, the pitcher, while in the stretch, did not come to a complete stop.  My partner correctly ruled it a balk as the pitch was delivered.  The batter, however, swung and lined a base hit through the left side of the infield.  Immediately, I came out from behind the plate and yelled, "TIME!  DEAD BALL!"  The first base coach, however, was already disagreeing with me.  "You have to play that out!  A balk is not a dead ball!"

"Yes it is, coach," I said.  "In NFHS (high school) baseball, a balk is an immediate dead ball."

He immediately dropped his argument, which was amazing, in my opinion.  But my partner took the time to explain it to him.  The runner from first base was advanced to second, and the batter resumed his at-bat.

The conflict that arose is that, in OBR (official baseball rules, which is what MLB uses, as do many other forms of baseball), a balk is a delayed dead ball.  That is, you wait for the play to be over before deciding to enforce the balk.  In the case above, we would have let the play go, then given the offense the option of taking the balk penalty or the result of the play.  However, high school rules do not allow this:  they clearly state that the ball is dead immediately and the balk is enforced.  It's an odd shame when something good happens, though...what if the batter hit a home run?  You guessed it:  I become the bad guy and have to nullify the home run to award the balk penalty.

Sometimes these rules don't make sense.  But it's not my job, as the umpire, to debate the rules.  I just have to enforce them.  Further, the coaches should probably take the time to understand these rules as well.  When offered a high school coaching job, it's not as simple as just teaching the game and leading the team.  You have to understand that there are MAJOR DIFFERENCES between high school sports and other levels of those same sports.

As much as officials do their homework to know these odd rules, coaches need to do the same.  After all, high school athletics are an extension of the classroom.  They are another opportunity to educate student athletes on valuable life lessons.  We, as coaches and officials, owe it to the kids to get it right.

If you look at the coaching tree that sprouts from Bill Walsh and Mike Holmgren within the confines of the NFL, you'll see a lot of recognizable names.

One thing you may not know, however, is a pretty interesting thought passed from Walsh to Holmgren regarding how to properly coach your team.

Walsh made it a point to tell Holmgren about the importance of moral as it flows from the coach to the player(s).  You can spend all of practice yelling at your team, but when practice is over, the most important thing a coach can do is to make sure you tell each player something good about them.  The players need to walk off the field with a good feeling, knowing that their coaches support them and that all the work from practice will be worth it.

The sad part is that this type of love is not always remembered by a large chunk of coaches, especially at younger or lesser levels.  How many high school coaches berate their kids in order to try to guarantee that championship?  How many college coaches run their kids into the ground because they think the sport is more important than the studies?  How many minor league coaches use it as a way to weed out the pure professionals?

This is just another testament to the importance of psychology in sports.  This isn't to say that practice shouldn't be tough or demanding, but players (especially younger players) need to know that their superiors recognize their hard work.  If more players felt this kind of love, imagine how positive the results could be on game day!

If you get a chance, check out the web page of Janis Meredith at www.jbmthinks.com; she writes a sports blog for parents, and the content is quite applicable to the message we try to portray in our mission.

Meredith wrote an article last year about how to tell if you're taking youth sports too seriously.  Her checklist included 13 great points:

1. You're deeply concerned about your child’s playing time.
2. You insist that he or she absolutely must play a certain position.
3. You feel the need to constantly push your child to practice and try harder.
4. You feel terribly guilty if you have to miss one game.
5. You feel it’s your job to confront the coach on behalf of your child about playing time or position issues.
6. You'll pay whatever it takes for your child to be on the best teams, have the best private coaches, and go to the best camps, even if you really can’t afford it.
7. You coach your child in the car on the way to the game.
8. You coach your child during the game from the sidelines.
9. You critique your child in the car after the game on the way home.
10. You worry a lot about your child’s performance and get so nervous that you can’t enjoy the experience.
11. You yell at the coach or officials during the game because you don’t agree with their calls.
12. You're constantly bragging to family and friends about what a stud/studette your child is.
13. You get angry at your child for making a mistake in the game.
    

Consider these points seriously, and if any apply to you, don't be ashamed that you fell into the trap!  Use positive energy to determine to escape these traits, rather than look back and examine your mistake.

The worst thing you can do is be in denial that any of these apply to you, and unfortunately, that's what happens more often than not.  The people who need these words of wisdom (whether they be from Janis or from OSIP) are the ones who will never listen.  It's an unfortunate paradox, but rather than focus on the bad, let's empower the good.

Thanks, Janis!

In my opinion, it's pretty annoying when players, fans, and anyone else have to say or do something to "psyche" themselves up for what might be considered a big game.  What's worse is when it backfires.

At the beginning of May, the Texas Rangers and Houston Astros met for the first time in the baseball season.  The Rangers and Astros are both inter-state and inter-division rivals, playing in the American League West.  So there is already a bit of juice to the series.

So why did Astros third baseman Alex Bregman decide to fire off a Tweet to fire people up and tick off the Rangers?  Your guess is as good as mine.

Bregman has been in the big leagues for all of five minutes.  He played for Team USA in the World Baseball Classic, only to ride the bench in favor of other established stars.  He is certainly not the established leader of the team.  When he Tweeted an obscene (but coded) battle cry to intimidate and beat Texas, the Rangers decided to print copies of it and put them up all over their clubhouse as motivation.

So what did Texas do?  Pitcher Andrew Cashner hit two batters, including Jose Altuve to start off the bottom of the first inning.  So Houston's pitcher, Lance McCullers, then threw behind the back of the Rangers' Mike Napoli.  That's when the benches cleared and everyone congregated in a pushing and shoving match.

These attempts to "fire up your squad" are nothing more than pep rallies, which are pointless from the get-go; if you need to motivate people with some "pep," rather than assume they will find the motivation themselves, then there is a bigger concern at hand.

Is it done to try to scare or intimidate the opponent?  Do you honestly think that this type of behavior will psychologically affect other competitors?

But consider the outcomes of these attempts to intimidate opponents as if they were categorized like Descartes' Wager:

-If your opponent cowers in fear from the intimidation attempts and you beat them, did you really beat them fair and square?  Did you really need to give your all to win over a compromised opponent?  It doesn't seem very satisfying.

-If your opponent cowers in fear but still beats you, then you look like an idiot.

-If your opponent gets angry and fights harder but you win, why did you make it harder on yourself?  I'm sure it's nice to be able to achieve victory by raising your game to immense levels, but was it worth the risk?

-If your opponent gets angry and fights harder and beats you, then you look like an idiot.

There's really no victory worthy of trying to intimidate your opponent.  The cost/benefit ratio is absurd.  Your best bet is to keep your mouth shut and just go do your job.

But the worst part of all this is not that it happened between the Astros and Rangers.  Rather, the problem is that this type of behavior is practiced with our youth as described in pep rallies and other types of scenarios.  Rivalries between high schools and colleges do nothing more than endanger our impressionable youth by exposing them to practices and traditions that do nothing more than cause detriment rather than teach good sportsmanship and morals and focus on the good experience of the game instead of the need to win.

Remind your young ones that it's about the good experience of playing the game, not about demeaning or defeating someone else.

An article published in Referee magazine at the end of 2016 made some rounds in early 2017 again, discussing the topic of why coaches yell, specifically at officials.

Ironically, one of the reasons the article gave regarding why coaches yell at officials is simply because the coach is often significantly far away from the official, ergo requiring raising his/her voice just to get the attention of the official.  To that, I must say, "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

But the article went on to discuss other more logical reasons why coaches yell.  The problem is that the reasons and examples provided as to why the coaches yell were not fully acceptable or morally sound, even if they happen to be the truth.

First, the article mentions one of the reasons being that coaches have multiple responsibilities on a team, thereby not being able to follow the game as closely as an official may.  That may be true, such as tending to injured players, determining when substitutes need to be deployed, or discussing strategy.  But to play devil's advocate, is that really an acceptable excuse?  Doesn't a good coach have the ability to follow the game and do all these other things?

A second reason, and one more damning and popularly used (especially at professional levels, which means lower levels mimic it), is to inspire a team.  Many stories have been passed down that a large majority of arguments between managers and umpires in baseball are not actually about a disagreement over a call, but as a tactic to inspire a team to perform better.  A coach who comes storming out of a dugout and starts going ballistic may actually be asking the umpire about where his dinner reservations are for that evening.

There are two problems with this method.  First, it rarely works, especially at youth levels.  Younger athletes tend to crawl back into a shell when this type of behavior is exhibited; they begin to play in fear of getting yelled at in a similar measure.  Second, why does the official have to be subject to a misnomer from onlookers?  The manager or coach may not actually be mad at the official, but the fans certainly can be deceived by this action.  "If the manager of my team is mad, that gives me, the fan, the right to be mad!"  Or, "Perhaps I should be mad too!"

One thing that is never acceptable is when a coach uses this method in a derogatory way against an official.  It's bad enough when a coach puts on a mad display when he's not actually yelling at the official; but if the coach is actually criticizing the official to motivate his team, then that's grounds for ejection.

It comes down to this:  officials shouldn't have to take abuse from coaches or anyone else.  If a coach has to yell just to get the attention of the official due to physical distance, that's fine.  But it makes zero sense to yell at an official for any other reason.  And if you are someone who still wants to yell at an official, be prepared to face the consequences.