​An umpire colleague of mine once said something regarding the status of how we should approach scholastic baseball games that aren’t varsity (i.e. junior varsity, freshman, middle school):  “Subvarsity games are essentially glorified scrimmages.”
 
The main purpose of this statement is legal.  When enforcing rules and recording results, the outcome of a junior varsity game means absolutely nothing in comparison to the varsity squad.  This allows emphasis to be placed on the development of the young players as well as the up-and-coming umpires who may need more experience.  Further, if a call is incorrect or a rule is applied incorrectly, it becomes a teachable moment rather than an egregious error.
 
From the perspective of the kids playing, it’s also understandable to see how they might play the game from the opposite point of view.  To a young teenager without much life experience, an incorrect call from an umpire might seem like a personal attack worthy of a vehement argument.  This actually works in favor of those trying to make scholastic athletics a true extension of the classroom:  our youth can use these situations to learn about life, especially with the guidance of coaches and parents who can help put the experience into perspective.
 
The real question, then, is about why adults take these games even more seriously than the kids playing them.
 
Anyone who has coached, officiated, or watched a plethora of subvarsity games has undoubtedly seen another adult take the game too seriously, perhaps to the point of being inappropriate.  Instead of being the mentors that our young players might need, the adults perceive these issues as the same personal attacks (if not worse) than how the most serious of young players might.  The example set by these adults has the potential to do much more harm than good, even if the justification is to fight for the team.
 
For example, I recently officiated a junior varsity game as part of my responsibilities to mentor inexperienced officials.  My partner was behind the plate, and my job while working the bases was to watch and observe him, looking for opportunities to provide feedback and suggestions.  Neither of the two teams were exceptionally talented, but that paled in comparison to the personalities of the two head coaches:  one coach took the game way too seriously, while the other couldn’t have cared less.
 
As a result, a lot of my mentoring of the young official dealt with the attitudes displayed by the coaches instead of talking about rules, mechanics, positioning, and other tips that might help him become a better umpire.
 
It makes sense if the kids in these games play too seriously:  they don’t know any better, relatively speaking.  It doesn’t make sense why the adults follow the same path.  The result of that junior varsity game in question will more than likely not affect the personal value and self-worth of the kids.  Yet, the adults treat it as such.
 
One of the best things these adults in question can do is to realize that subvarsity games usually get “subvarsity” officials.  That is, the officials who are young, inexperienced, or simply not of a high-enough quality tend to work these games.  Further, with these attitudes being rampant, it’s easy to see why the number of officials is dwindling.  At this rate, there won’t be umpires to work these games, regardless of quality!
 
Adults in all roles can do one simple thing to make an improvement in these situations:  put the subvarsity games in context.  Play hard, and play to win, but remember reality:  it’s a glorified scrimmage.

In the world of capitalism, there is always an interesting line between legality and morality in the quest to obtain the almighty dollar.  Capitalism is a competition between businesses driven by incentive to produce a quality product or service for the purpose of making a profit and thus surviving.  The ambiguity in how that is achieved is always subject to examination.
 
Equally ambiguous is how to marry the pursuits of a for-profit business with a non-profit endeavor.  When an altruistic goal influences the decisions of a business, it’s always interesting to see how different people make decisions that are in the best interest of both the business and its people as well as the pursuit of doing good.
 
Consider the trivia nights that OSIP runs.  We host these events to make money for our charity while also trying to provide a practical application of good sportsmanship in a common competitive setting.  Doing so requires the cooperation of another entity, usually a business like a restaurant, bar, brewery, social club, or similar that is seeking to increase revenue with more foot traffic.
 
From our start of this endeavor approximately ten years prior to the present day, there have been about twenty different venues that have contracted us for trivia nights.  As the weather warms into the second quarter of 2026, we can report that we currently only have contracts with two venues for trivia.  That means there have been a lot of failed endeavors!  About 90% of our trivia nights are no more.
 
There are plenty of explanations as to why certain things don’t work.  Our trivia nights have evolved significantly over ten years, attempting to always find ways to improve or serve others in a more positive way.  But no matter how much we look internally at where we can do better, sometimes we have no choice but to look outwards at the choices made by the venues.
 
Arriving at the conclusion of “this isn’t on us” is not done lightly.  It takes critical thinking and reflection, sometimes even guided by spirituality.  It can require a leap of faith that has the power to remove the burdens of guilt and shame.  And it is done under the guise of having personal responsibility be the driving force behind what is equally profitable and good for the mission.
 
We at OSIP know that our trivia nights are a good product, evidenced by the analytics we record showing the number of participants and the inquiries we make into whether the host business was profitable.  Even if we only have two contracts, we know those contracts flourish.  When comparing the numbers of the two contracts to the other 90% of failed attempts, it’s easy to identify evidence of what the for-profit venues could have done better for a greater chance of success.  Again, this does not exclude us from self-reflection, but if it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck…
 
Capitalism aside, though, it hurts when a venue that no longer hosts us tries something new using words or advertisements that infer that our product was bad.  Recently, a venue where we no longer host trivia decided to contract someone else to host trivia, essentially as a replacement.  This alone is fair game in the world of capitalism.  However, the advertisements used were interpreted as subtly taking a jab at us.  They included the phrases “best trivia ever” and “trivia that doesn’t suck.”  Although the claim from the venue is that these phrases were part of the marketing campaign provided by the new company contracted, an argument can be made that perception dictates reality, even if the original content was not intended to offend.
 
Look:  we live in a world where a defendant is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.  We would rather let a guilty man go free than to put an innocent man in prison.  We allow immoral loopholes in all facets of our industries because they are required parts of how our industries work.  Consider how insurance companies are allowed to deny legitimate claims because of the small subset of fraud that requires an appeal process to exist.  Is it moral?  No.  Is it legal?  You bet.  When we switch the context back to simple capitalism and ask the same questions, the answers remain the same.  The true question becomes whether we can rise above such behavior and conduct ourselves appropriately in the name of good sportsmanship.  Capitalism is a contest, so the same rules of sportsmanship apply.

Per usual, it’s always important to begin a post such as this with the normal disclaimer:  OSIP does not endorse any political candidate or party, and the views, thoughts, and opinions of those associated with OSIP do not necessarily reflect the organization.
 
While brainstorming some new ideas for the organization, I playfully wondered what would happen if I started a media campaign called “Make Sportsmanship Great Again.”  That’s when it appropriately hit me:  word association is a bit of a hurdle.
 
In the United States, it’s not subjective to note that this phrase shares three words with the phrase “Make America Great Again,” which has become associated with President Donald Trump.  There is obviously a gaggle of thoughts and emotions that arise in this scenario, regardless of one’s political affiliation.  Perhaps the safest suggestion without sounding politically motivated is to say that the phrase “Make America Great Again” or its acronym MAGA has become used to label a group of people.  In doing so, the definition of each separate word and the absolute value of the sentence take not just a backseat to this label, but they feel like they’re shoved deep in the bowels of the trunk!
 
If able, try an experiment.  Eliminate this newer association with the phrase and consider what the sentence means.  At worst, the sentence is an imperative command that demands the listener or the reader to adopt the goal of working towards the best possible outcome for the United States of America.  The connotation of the sentence may also imply that the challenge to achieve this goal stems from the object (America) currently residing at a lower value than where the speaker or writer believes it should be.
 
Prior to the connotation being introduced, it’s difficult to argue with the impetus of the phrase.  Wanting the best for our country, regardless of the method, is just plain good; attempting to argue the opposite is ludicrous.  It’s not until the introduction of the connotation that a potential assertion is added that might suggest that where America resides prior to the goal proposed by the statement is lower than where one would want it to be.
 
Is it possible that opinions will differ once the connotation is introduced?  Absolutely.  But even so, a differing of opinions based on the status of America is not yet entwined (in this experiment, at least) with the association we’ve removed prior to beginning.
 
In short, the point is that the phrase and acronym in question isn’t troublesome.  It’s the weight and the charge that people inject into the entity that creates the hurdle.  The words stop holding their definition and become a symbol of something completely different.  But in a world where perception can dictate reality, trying to rely on objectivity to convey truth can be a losing game when many people prefer the path of least resistance.
 
In other words, a campaign based on the phrase “Make Sportsmanship Great Again” wouldn’t automatically fail because people don’t value the importance of sportsmanship.  It would suffer because it sounds too much like something else that some people have already judged, therefore not even giving it a chance to succeed.  The cost/benefit ratio tilts because of something not even remotely associated with sportsmanship.
 
This is not the first time this type of association has occurred, let alone with words.  What if we changed the symbol of words to an authority figure, such as a baseball umpire?  Sports officials commonly fall victim to the equation of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”  Therefore, no matter how much two rival teams or their fanbases hate each other, it’s easy for them to bond over the idea that they can equally hate the arbiter overseeing them.  It’s the same idea as when two high school kids in detention equally hate the principal for putting them there, even though the cause of the punishment was a fist fight between these two kids!
 
And yet, the person doing the officiating changes from game to game.  But that doesn’t seem to affect the disdain for the position of the official!  For example, if a person gets pulled over for speeding three times in one day by three different cops, it’s more likely for the person to develop a disdain for the police in general than to take personal responsibility and learn that speeding might cause this outcome!
 
There’s a saying in officiating:  the players, coaches, and fans aren’t arguing with you, the person, but with your uniform.  They don’t see the value of the person wearing the uniform; they just see the uniform and fall into a trap of immediate negative association.  The same goes with word association.  The label associated with “Make America Great Again” holds more value than the words themselves.  It’s a form of name-calling.
 
In fact, this phenomenon has occurred throughout history in the form of prejudice.  Perhaps it seems a bit too simple to reduce it, but the civil rights movement occurred because people were being judged by the color of their skin (their uniform or label), not the content of their character.
 
Put simply, one must ask this question:  are we really playing (or existing) with good sportsmanship when we give more power to symbols and connotations instead of the individual words or people associated with them?

Have you heard of the Dunning-Kruger effect?
 
In short, this effect is a psychological phenomenon that says that people who are not smart believe they are smarter than they actually are, while people who are actually smart believe they are not smart.
 
It has overtones of both ‘ignorance is bliss’ and ‘knowledge is half the battle.’  We could certainly go down many paths of discussion as we examine what is truly happening in the minds of those being tasked to demonstrate this effect.  But let’s try to keep it simple.
 
Across all sports and competition, the Dunning-Kruger effect is prominent regardless of the role.  If you’ve never been seriously inside the circle of being a player, coach, parent, fan, official, or media member, it’s entirely possible you may succumb to this effect.  And if it’s not you, you can easily find someone else who will!
 
How many non-players think it’s easy to hit a fastball traveling at 90mph?  How many armchair quarterbacks think they could handle the pressure of being the head coach of an NFL team in a close game?  How many of the 50,000 screaming patrons think they can do a better job than the professional official on the field in front of them?  We could keep asking these questions…
 
Ironically, Dunning-Kruger points towards empathy as being key.  Lacking conscious empathy for others usually is a formula for this effect to fill the vacancy.  And it’s through this empathy that we can build and tap into good sportsmanship.
 
But there’s a new wrinkle to this story in today’s world.  In the name of ‘slicing the baloney too thin,’ those who are defensive in response to the possibility that they just might not be good at something tend to be the same ones who do not see the forest for the trees, seeking to highlight the possible existence of subjective truth and how it can trump innocent opinions.
 
To help demonstrate a recent example of Dunning-Kruger, a gentleman with an interest in flying aircraft (but with no training) was given ample opportunity to watch training videos and play video game simulators before being thrust into a true brick-and-mortar flight simulator to see if he had the knowledge and experience to do it professionally.  His task was to pilot a plane in three scenarios, each requiring landing the aircraft.
 
He barely succeeded in the first attempt with the help of an auto-pilot program.  His second landing destroyed the landing gear.  His third was a failure.
 
In a more innocent world, most people would simply use this as an example of this effect.  However, in today’s world, where everyone’s opinion is plastered throughout social media, there are people who are choosing to frame the gentleman’s experience as a success.
 
Their rationale?  In two of the three attempts, the passengers on the plane probably would have lived.  If a situation arose where the pilots took ill and an inexperienced passenger had to land a commercial aircraft, an objective person (not currently succumbing to the adrenaline and fear of potential death) sees a 67% chance of success and likes the odds!
 
The joke, however, is on them, as this just illustrates Dunning-Kruger even more.  If those people were actually on the flight, faced with the possibility that death was imminent, and had to put their faith in a stranger with no more than a 67% success rate to ensure they live, one would imagine they would be singing a different tune.  (And if they aren’t, what are the odds they’re a psychopath?)
 
The same is true in sports.  Demonstrate that human umpires in Major League Baseball get 96% of ball/strike calls correct (which is 6% more than the computers when the automatic system was first discussed) and watch two distinct reactions:  those with empathy for umpires (or those who have umpired before) look in awe at the professionals who get that many calls correct, while those lacking empathy (or who haven’t umpired before) complain about the 4% that were technically incorrect, regardless of whether they were consequential to the outcome of the game.
 
“But even if one missed pitch didn’t affect the outcome of an at-bat, it could have had an effect on another plate appearance, as one less bullet was in the pitcher’s arm!”
 
I rest my case.
 
Why is the vitriol prominent?  One potential reason is the advent of sports betting.  We live in a world where a bettor can wager on something as minute as a pitch being a ball or a strike.  A pitcher may throw a strike by the letter of the law, but if an umpire calls it a ball, no amount of truth can overturn that.
 
Yet, Major League Baseball is instituting a challenge system for balls and strikes this season, allowing players to attempt to “right a wrong.”  However, challenges are finite:  each team only has two per game, and they are only retained if the challenge is successful.  Strategy now plays a role in how to seek a correct outcome.
 
We’ve reached a point where money (and our attachment to it) is now potentially influencing Dunning-Kruger.  The emotional intangibles that once naturally governed the psychology of Dunning-Kruger (“I’m not currently in a life-or-death situation, but I could easily land a plane with no experience, and a 67% chance of success is in my favor”) have morphed into a capitalist hodgepodge (“I have no experience umpiring baseball, but based on how I’ve lost money betting on balls and strikes since the umpire was incorrect and I should have won money, I know I can do a better job”).  But the structure of Dunning-Kruger hasn’t changed.  Rather, the lens has shifted, as we have replaced one variable with another without altering the stasis of this experience.
 
It doesn’t matter why it happens.  It matters that it happens.  We’ve known that it happens and that it will continue to happen.  We can’t stop the phenomenon; rather, we can only react to its existence.  And the proper reaction is empathy.  After all, wait until you get in the batter’s box and try to hit a fastball at 90mph with no experience doing it.  Trust me:  you’ll change your tune!

Recently, I saw a video that explained how private equity has helped turn youth sports into big business.  Youth sports in the United States now generates approximately $40 billion annually, more than the NFL and NBA combined.

The model that private equity firms follow finds them buying companies not traded publicly to increase profits, often by cutting costs, raising prices, and assuming debt, all in the name of a business decision to adapt to a changing landscape.  This model helped sink chains like Payless, Sears, Toys “R” Us, and Red Lobster.  They didn’t disappear because customers vanished; they disappeared because a decision was made, whether innocent or nefarious, to prioritize short-term profit over long-term investment.

Private equity has also played a major role in the housing crisis, both in the United States and abroad.  Corporate investors have purchased massive numbers of single-family homes and apartment complexes.  In many cities, these firms now rank among the largest landlords, giving them a monopoly to drive up prices.

In other words, private equity views everyday institutions as financial assets.

Over the past decade, private equity firms have been buying up youth sports clubs, tournament operators, training facilities, recruiting platforms, and equipment and uniform companies.  One of the biggest entities is Unrivaled Sports, launched in 2024 by Josh Harris and David Blitzer, two veteran private investors who also own the New Jersey Devils, Philadelphia 76ers, Washington Commanders, and Crystal Palace FC.  Another major player is 3StepSports, which owns hundreds of club teams across the country.  Between them, these firms now control clubs, athletic complexes, youth leagues, camps, uniform manufacturers, scheduling platforms, and media outlets.

It’s easy to see where this is heading.  Consider some of these new factors:

-Families with kids on travel teams are now forced into “stay-to-play” arrangements, requiring them to book hotels at rates 30-50% higher than normal because of an agreement or relationship between the hotels and the teams/leagues/tournaments.  Those who try to stay elsewhere often face hotel “breakage fees” ranging from $300 to $1000.

-Groups such as Black Bear Sports Group, owned by private equity firm Blackstreet Capital (the largest owner of ice rinks in the US), have banned parents from recording their own children playing hockey at its facilities.  Instead, if parents want to review film either to help their child improve their craft or simply keep memories, they now must pay $25-$50 per month for a streaming service for the privilege.

The message to parents is clear:  pay up, or your kid gets left behind.  In the process, some of the most important lessons sports should teach, such as teamwork, sportsmanship, discipline, fitness, and fun, are being left for dead.

The financial consequences are staggering.  The average American family now spends over $1000 per year on a single primary sport for their child, a 46% increase since 2019, far outpacing inflation.  Travel teams, specialized training, and equipment push that number much higher.  For many families, youth sports now feel like a second mortgage.

This shift has cultural consequences as well.  Kids are being pushed into early sports specialization at younger ages, despite strong evidence that young athletes benefit from playing more than one sport.  This increases the likelihood of burnout, stress, and overuse injuries.

The bad news is that those looking to profit off parents’ hopes for their kids aren’t going away.  The good news is that we still have the power to protect what makes youth sports special.

We can start by supporting community-based leagues and programs.  Municipal parks and recreation leagues, school teams, and nonprofit clubs typically prioritize sportsmanship, development, and fun over profit.  When economically feasible, school boards and town councils need to hear how important it is to responsibly invest in facilities.  Public funding can help make youth sports more accessible.

Perhaps we should try to reject the pressure narrative.  Ten-year-olds usually do not need to be on three travel teams to succeed.  They rarely need year-round private coaching or early specialization.  When parents focus on their kids’ enjoyment and growth rather than chasing athletic scholarships or professional careers, it can lead to better sportsmanship in the stands as well.

We must also reject the “one-path-to-success” myth.  Fewer than 7% of high school athletes go on to play a sport in college.  An even smaller fraction will play professionally.  For most kids, sports are not about compiling a highlight reel for college recruiters or pro teams; they’re about having fun, making friends, and learning lessons they’ll take into adulthood.

Parents should make the decision not to sit idly by and allow youth sports to become even more entrenched as big business.  Otherwise, we risk losing the spirit of the game and denying countless children the opportunity to learn the life lessons that only sports can teach.

While reading Linda Flanagan’s book Take Back The Game, I had the idea of revisiting my coaching style from approximately 15 years prior to see if what I preach now aligns with what I did then (as well as to see if I may have adapted or improved).
 
From 2009 through 2012, I coached the local Senior Babe Ruth team in town.  Senior Babe Ruth is the highest division of Babe Ruth Baseball, which is one of the dominant recreational baseball programs in the world (along with Little League).  Normally, this division would act like all the other divisions within a town’s charter:  the kids would be split into equally numbered teams within the town and play each other for the spring season.  However, we only had enough kids for one team, so the local Babe Ruth Commissioner who oversaw all the charters within his district (about the size of our county) implemented an interleague program, allowing us to form the one team and play the teams from other town’s charters (most of whom had the same issue of only having enough players for one team).
 
Senior Babe Ruth was designed for kids ages 16-18 and had stipulations that would allow some kids aged 15 and 19 to also join.  Because most of these kids were teenagers and young adults with other responsibilities (such as school, jobs, and varsity sports), and with the implementation of the interleague program, the Commissioner gave us his blessing to hold our season in the summer.  This worked out quite well because the only other baseball opportunity in town at that time was American Legion Baseball, which was much more competitive, serving more like an extension of a varsity sport that required players to commit to baseball six days per week.  In short, Legion was viewed as the town’s summer varsity team, and Senior Babe Ruth was the JV.
 
One of the biggest advantages of Senior Babe Ruth was that it only required kids to dedicate two or three evenings to the team per week, none of which were Fridays and Saturdays (unless rain or another scenario forced a change to the schedule).  During my four years at the helm, I had a plethora of varsity kids defect from the Legion team because they saw Senior Babe Ruth as equally challenging and fun while lacking the intense commitment of the Legion team.  The advent of media made it possible for kids to be scouted by coaches based on skill, not based on team or reputation; thus, the need to play Legion ball for the resume padding dwindled so long as you were good.
 
I’ll spoil the ending of the story before I get to the real purpose of this post.  We won two championships in four years, both in years where our regular season record was garbage (but everybody makes the playoffs).  The final year was a disaster (that led to my voluntary departure) because our charter’s coordinator felt we had too many kids on our team and should split into two teams.  I vehemently argued against this because I learned something in my first three years coaching that team:  I might start with 20 kids, but I’d be lucky to have 9 for the final game.  Schedules, jobs, vacations, and all sorts of other things created a war of attrition.  Even if I started with 30 kids (like I almost did in that final year), I was confident not just in the pattern to continue, but I was also confident in my ability to be fair and just and make every kid feel appreciated on our team.
 
By the second season of my tenure, I was forcing all my kids and their parents to sign a contract prior to participating.  This was the crux of my reflection because it gave me the foundation of what I enforced while managing that team.  I went back to examine the highlights from the final contract from 2012.
 
I began the contract with an explanation of why I called it “competitive recreational baseball.”  It was recreational because anyone who paid the dues was on the team (while also not requiring the level of commitment as Legion).  But it was competitive because the league rules (which I did not create) stated that we use many high school rules, which meant a traditional starting lineup and specific substitution rules (as opposed to batting everybody and using free substitution).
 
I then gave a list of reasons why people should reconsider signing up for our team:
 
-If they played another sport at the same time (or were on a travel team) where their level of commitment to our team was going to be impacted…
-If they had a job and worked so many hours that they would either miss games or not be ready to play when present…
-If they scheduled a vacation during the season that would require them to miss more than one consecutive game…
-If they didn’t take their responsibility to the team seriously…
-If they had a bad or lethargic attitude…
 
I made this point because I wanted kids and parents to understand that they were making a commitment to a team where the coaches were all volunteering their time.  (During my entire tenure, only once did I have a coach who had a kid on the team.)  If we were going to be there, we expected the kids to be there as well.  It wasn’t about possessing the kids; it was about being respectful to the adults who were not being compensated for coaching a team when they basically had no kids of their own on said team.
 
In hindsight, I probably would have made that point a bit clearer and more vulnerable.  I also would have workshopped wording to note that I am not asking kids to specialize in baseball; I want kids playing multiple sports, but I don’t want them to do that to the detriment of our team.
 
I then discussed the lineup.  We were allowed to start a maximum of ten players per game:  the usual 9 plus either a Designated Hitter (DH) or an Extra Hitter (EH).  I told the players that I would do everything to get every kid in the game, and that the only real thing that would prevent me from doing that would be if the game ended early due to the mercy rule or due to weather.  I also told the kids to be ready to participate in many other ways, such as being a courtesy runner for the pitcher or catcher.
 
Next was a discussion on how attitude and attendance could trump ability.  I wanted to make it clear that the kids who were putting in the effort were going to be rewarded.  This is a principle I use to this day in many different walks of life, such as directing music.
 
The big point came next:  availability.  I wanted kids and parents to know that I understood that not every kid could make every game, but I wanted at least 24 hours’ notice if a kid would miss a game or practice, especially so that I could prepare my lineup!
 
I actually had one kid’s mom (who was an attorney) write in addendums to the contract saying she would only sign it if it was clearly understood that her son would be missing games due to vacations.  That kid did not last more than a season on the team.
 
It's not that I didn’t want the kids to take vacations and spend time with family and friends.  I understood that high school seniors would be going to prom and would be away for the weekend.  In fact, the league schedule was built around the prom schedule!  Once again, it was about the maturity to understand what a commitment truly was, especially when the coaches are not being reimbursed.  And once again, if there was a more vulnerable way to express it or word it, I would have used that.
 
The standard section on ethics and sportsmanship was next.  This was non-negotiable, and I feel like I would continue to enforce it to this day:  no ejections, no hazing, no fighting, no retaliating, etc.  I found myself drawing on this as I wrote the first draft of On Sportsmanship.
 
I discussed the playoffs next.  Because the playoffs were single elimination (until the final round), I made it a point to emphasize that I would manage those games differently.  Playing time would not be equal, as winning would mean advancing and continuing our season.  And yet, I still found ways to get everybody into each game:  in the final game of our championship series in 2011, one of my players forgot his contacts and couldn’t see.  I told him I didn’t feel comfortable letting him play if he couldn’t see the ball.  His response?  “I can run.”  Sure enough, he was used as a pinch runner and scored the winning run to secure the championship.
 
I told parents they had to stay out of the dugout during games and let the coaches do their job.  I told pitchers they needed to adhere to a strict conditioning schedule to protect their arms.  I mentioned that players could not wear spikes in the batting cages.  And I demanded no substance abuse:  none of my players would be allowed to drink, smoke, chew tobacco, etc.  (After all, most were minors.)
 
I took a step back after reviewing this contract to see what I could have done better.  I keep coming back to the same thing:  communication with vulnerability.  It was probably pretty difficult for a kid in his mid-to-late 20’s to manage adolescents and young adults with their parents hovering over them.  I wish I could go back and express my thoughts differently.  But the content of my thoughts and intentions were good, and if my age and inexperience in life were the only things that prevented me from being better (in aggregate), I can sleep at night knowing my moral compass was pointing in the right direction.

With the American election season in the rearview mirror, everyone with a television, a radio, and/or access to the internet can breathe a sigh of relief that the attack ads and political media campaigns will disappear until the next autumn approaches.  It is during this downtime that the science and deception of these unsportsmanlike advertisements can be easily revealed and presented to the public with the hope that better understanding of the process can ease the burdens and the stress of the next year’s cycle.
 
(Before continuing, it is always necessary to remind readers that OSIP does not endorse any political candidate or party, and the views, thoughts, and opinions of those associated with OSIP do not necessarily reflect the organization.)
 
Whether the term “smear campaign” or the term “attack ad” is used is irrelevant.  The purpose of these spots is the same:  use anything in the public forum to twist the truth and make a particular opponent look less desirable.  The tactic is used equally by all sides and all parties; in fact, many political action committees that are not technically associated with specific candidates are using these protocols arguably more than the candidates and their campaigns themselves.
 
The process looks something like this…
 
Candidate X is being interviewed at a public event.  A question is posed by the moderator to the candidate:  “What are your thoughts on how your state’s budget can be better balanced?”
 
The candidate responds:  “I think it’s a complex issue that will require politicians on both sides of the aisle to sit down and discuss what our fiscal priorities should be over the next four years.  I don’t think it’s as simple as demanding we raise your property taxes to bring in more money.  I don’t think it’s as simple as demanding we cut programs like the arts.  I know some states have considered things like a 10% sales tax across the board, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to our state.  I wish I had a more concrete solution, but our previous administrations have had to battle corruption that have left us in a tough and sad situation.”
 
Seems innocent, right?
 
Meanwhile, the people hired by Candidate Y (or the groups and committees that are paid to support Candidate Y) to make Candidate X look less desirable are licking their chops over this answer.  Candidate Y’s team will take the audio clip from this interview and edit it so that soundbites from this interview can be used in different contexts.  Some of those might include:
 
“We raise property taxes to bring in more money.”
 
“We cut programs like the arts.”
 
“A 10% sales tax across the board.”
 
“I wish I had a more concrete solution.”
 
Take a moment to read those small clips outside of the original speech.  It’s easy to see how a lack of context makes these independent lines seem so different than how they were originally used!
 
The team putting together an attack ad against Candidate X can easily create a new ad with these.  A voiceover will narrate while these clips are conveniently interjected:
 
“Think Candidate X is going to save you money if elected?  Think again!  ‘We raise property taxes to bring in more money.’  That’s right, Candidate X said that!  What else could be implemented if that candidate is elected?  ‘A 10% sales tax across the board.’  Are you kidding?  ‘I wish I had a more concrete solution.’  We can’t afford to elect Candidate X!”
 
In a matter of moments, it’s incredibly easy to take an honest and innocent answer given by a candidate and use the audio of the response to formulate an ad that can be used to smear the candidate.
 
From the perspective of this discussion, our consciences might scream about how easy it is to see the farce.  However, in the moment as these ads are aired, most people don’t take the time to question whether a candidate said those words in the context they are being presented.  The reactions that are subconsciously created due to these ads get stored in the psyches of those who hear them, and they gnaw at preconceived notions that people hold.  Rather than helping constituents make informed decisions, the ads try to create a mob mentality that builds conflict in political competition.  Rather than simply cheering for their candidate, they cause rifts in families and relationships while keenly omitting the possibility that honest and open discussion might reveal more common ground than originally thought.
 
Unfortunately, there’s no stopping this.  These ads can’t go away with our freedom of speech.  If Candidate X were to sue for defamation, an attorney could easily argue that the ad in question never said anything that was not true.  Candidate X did say each of the clips used:  there’s no law against implying a potential different context.  And there’s also no law against suggesting opinions.
 
What can we do if we cannot use law to prevent this?  We can empower those who will listen to lead by example.  When the next election approaches and these ads surface again, take the time to ignore them until you can do your own individual and unbiased research to see what the true context of a quote is.  Remember that two things can be true at the same time:  you can still hold your political beliefs and choose to withhold judgment based on these claims until you have had the time to do your own research.

A colleague sent me an article recently that outlined three separate violent incidents in youth sports, all of which occurred on the same Saturday in October in New Jersey.
 
One was on a high school soccer field.  One was on a high school football field.  And one was at a youth football game.
 
As I read it, a frustration began to boil in me.
 
This frustration wasn’t from the incidents.  It wasn’t from the fact that they all happened on the same day in the same state.  It wasn’t any of that.
 
No, the frustration came from the fact that OSIP played no part in the process.
 
Let me explain…
 
Out of every school and athletic director mentioned or interviewed in the article, whether stemming from the incidents directly or simply seeking comment, not even one has ever heard of our organization or has contacted us for help.
 
Out of every person offering quotes for the article, the only person who knew who we were was the sole state assemblywoman we honored at our celebration in 2025.  (She didn’t mention us in the article, but that’s no guarantee that she didn’t mention us and the author simply omitted it.)
 
Surprise:  the author never mentioned us.
 
The purpose of the article was to shed light on these incidents and the growing problem in sports.  We’ve all heard the stories.  We may even have witnessed some of the experiences.  And for every incident referenced in this article, OSIP tried to get involved to help.
 
We got nowhere.
 
The entire ordeal is frustrating because we exist and want to help.  Are our advertising campaigns not working to alert the public of our existence?  Or do people simply not want to include us?
 
After all, the incidents of poor sportsmanship, conflict, and violence are the ones that get the most eyeballs to the television set, not the ones where opponents help each other or where a player and an official share a laugh.
 
So, I must ask:  what is it going to take to get OSIP involved?  What will it take for schools, leagues, and other organizations to realize we have a plethora of resources waiting for them?  What will it take for players, coaches, parents, fans, and the media to consciously decide to invite us into their environment and allow us to assist in making a difference?

I was sitting at the bar at a golf club recently while a golf tournament for kids was being held.  Through innocent eavesdropping, I learned that the company hosting the tournament has held various tournaments for kids of all ages for years, and this course was one of the courses the company constantly used for their tournaments.
 
Further, this company had stepped up their game in how they attracted new kids to play in these tournaments.  Plenty of kids signed up to play on their own, but they were also inviting kids from around the country to play in these tournaments as well.  As I surveyed the kids and their families who were participating, I learned that most families had traveled from different parts of the east coast just to come to my hometown for a few days for a youth golf tournament.
 
The lady who was representing the company made an innocent comment that struck me, though.  She noted that in all the years of these tournaments, not one of their participating kids had ever turned pro.  I looked around again at these kids and their families.  At first, I was a little shocked that not a single kid had found their way to the top of their game.  However, after a moment, that shock was gone.
 
There are plenty of trends and statistics that could be used to examine why this has occurred.  Demographics of ethnicity might be at the top of the list as I noted most of the room was filled with people of Asian and Indian descent.  I could sense that all the parents were overbearing, placing their kids on a pedestal to the point of believing the kids could do no wrong (which was not far from the truth based on the way they treated the waitstaff at the restaurant).  Yet, no matter the reason or the evidence, there was just a simple feeling that transcended this microcosm.
 
When I was young, I firmly believed that I was destined to play Major League Baseball, even if my parents were not as subscribed to that belief as I was.  In hindsight, though, I preferred it that way:  they never pressured me.  They supported me, and they wanted me to shoot for the stars (so long as I had a backup plan).  Not that this statement is meant to be persuasive testimony, but it is through my faith that I reconcile the fact that I was meant to do something more than ascend to the big leagues in baseball.
 
When I look back at that dream now, I might still believe that I could have achieved that goal, but it would have taken some luck solely due to the number of factors that were out of my control.  Reaching the pinnacle of any major sport takes more than just talent.  It also takes more than just being at the right place at the right time.  The way each sport evolves within the values of society is rather unpredictable, and how the sports seek to make a profit will usually stay one step ahead of the evolution of the talent and the next crop of athletes and potential stars.
 
As I digested this, not only did I feel a little better about my life path, but I started to pray that the families at this tournament saw this as well.  Not a single kid in all the years of this tournament had become a professional golfer, and we had no idea if that would change anytime soon.  I wanted these kids to dream that it was possible (if they wanted to dream that), but I really hoped that the parents were simply nothing more than supportive of giving these kids a positive experience, rather than setting a demand for what they must eventually become.

The word “divorce” always evokes some unfortunate memories.  However, let’s take a moment to look at a time when divorce is good for sportsmanship.
 
I have been a fan of the New York Yankees as long as I can remember.  (For reference, I’m 42 years of age while writing this.)  My adolescence occurred while the Yanks were creating their dynasty at the end of the 20th century.  As I became more aware of what was happening, I found myself more attuned to rosters, batting orders, and even jersey numbers.
 
My budding adulthood after college aligned with an expansion in my cable package, allowing me to watch more games.  Spending more time in the car, I listened to them on the radio just as much.  In doing so, the team became a divine idol:  they could do no wrong.
 
Part of the mindset of idolizing a team (or an athlete in general) includes a black-and-white understanding that everyone not wearing that uniform is the enemy, and that includes umpires.  Mind you, this all occurred before I had joined the ranks of the world of officials.  But there were certainly times that I would be yelling at the television much in the same way that players, coaches, fans, and broadcasters would complain about calls.
 
Looking for any sort of income, I wasn’t out of college two years before I had the idea of becoming an umpire.  Now, as I approach my 20th year in the profession, I look back on how my opinions evolved.  The results are astounding:  the umpires are not the enemy, and they never were.
 
Thanks to my career in umpiring, I was able to divorce myself from blind fandom.  Sure, I still watch every Yankees game (or listen to them on the radio or follow them on my phone while working).  Yes, I still listen to sports talk radio and discuss every bad game with my friends.  But I do so without the fanboy mindset that might make me believe the Yankees are infallible.
 
When I watch a game now, I find I’m able to root for the team while also seeing the game from the objective eyes of the umpires.  It’s a peaceful experience because it gives me the best of both worlds:  I can enjoy fandom while also enjoying the pleasure of a simple baseball game, regardless of who is playing!  Does it reduce some of the emotional highs and lows of being a Yankee fan?  Perhaps, but I would argue that said reduction can be a good thing because it allows me to be a rational fan instead of a blind lemming.
 
Here's another benefit:  by eliminating the unhealthy part of my fandom, I have room to be a student of the game, which, in my opinion, is immensely more valuable than being a blind fan.  When the Yanks are done by 10pm in the east, it’s time to switch over to the west coast games!  I’m now glued to baseball of any kind, yet I still have the desire to be a fan of my childhood team.
 
I’m quite thankful for the divorce that removed me from what might be classified as unhealthy fandom.  The simple choice of learning to officiate gave me a deeper appreciation for the game, allowing me to expand my horizons and be entertained by it for more of the calendar year.  The season doesn’t end with the World Series; rather, the conclusion of the World Series allows me to turn my attention to the Arizona Fall League, the Dominican Winter League, the Caribbean World Series, and even the World Baseball Classic when applicable.  I owe all of this to my decision to become an umpire.  And I am still a Yankees fan!