The other day I read a story about a Minnesota high school basketball coach who resigned in the middle of his team’s season because he had had enough of the abuse from his players’ parents.

“It’s never about winning or losing games. It’s always about their kids’ playing time,” he said. Now I read coaches in Ohio are suing some of their players’ parents for libel and slander.

How do kids bouncing a ball while playing a game that’s supposed to be fun make adults so angry and vicious?

All across the country, coaches and officials of youth and high school sports are verbally abused and even physically threatened. An alarming number of parents have been banned from athletic fields and gymnasiums because of their inappropriate behavior.

I have personally witnessed too many of these situations as both a coach and a parent. I’ve seen a father curse out a coach on the court and a mother make an obscene gesture at an official during a basketball game played by 12-year-old girls.

One coach I know said if there’s a team of orphans out there somewhere he’s putting in for the job.

Here’s what a father and his son’s conversation on the drive home after a game might be like.

“What a joke,” says dad. “You’re better than a lot of those kids. That Jason stinks. You are way better than him!”

“I know I’m better,” says his son, “but the coach told me I don’t hustle and my attitude is bad. Why should I hustle when he doesn’t play me? Why should I even care?

“Well, the coach stinks, too. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. And he plays the other kids because he’s a buddy with their fathers. I told him a thing or two. You know I always got your back, kid.”

“And when I played in the last game, that mistake wasn’t my fault. That was a bad call.”

“You’re right! I let that stupid official know it, too. You did nothing wrong that I could see.”

“Yeah, then the coach told me I gotta learn to be a good teammate, too. Why should I care how the other kids do when I’m sitting on the bench?”

“That coach don’t know what he’s talking about. If you keep sitting the bench, we’ll quit this lousy team and go find somewhere else to play!”

Now here’s another conversation. Same team. Same coach. Different father and son.

“So, son, how’s it going?”

“I’m having fun, Dad. I made new friends on the team and we laugh a lot together when we get breaks at practices.”

“How do you think you are doing?”

“You told me to do my best and always hustle. I know I have to get better. I really like Coach. He told me he loves my attitude and my hustle.”

“I am proud of you, son.”

“I don’t play the whole game, but you said when I’m not out there I should be a good teammate. You see me slapping five when somebody does good and I tell them they’ll do better next time when they don’t do good.”

“Remember I told you that everyone will do bad in sports sometimes and that’s the way it goes in life, too.”

“I remember, Dad. In the last game I didn’t do too good, but you told me that’s OK as long as I gave my it my best try, and that day we talked about what I have to do to get better. I really like when we talk like that. I’m gonna keep trying my best.”

“As long as you’re having fun and doing your best. …”

“I can’t wait until our next practice.”

Parents directly influence behavior. When adults act inappropriately, I believe it has less to do with what’s going on the court or the field and more to do with the burdens from life’s miseries they bring with them after they step out of their cars. A bad job or a bad marriage and now their kids are sitting the bench is a bad recipe for frustration and anger.

An enormous pressure is placed upon their kids to succeed in sports to compensate for their parents’ unhappiness.

Organized sports venues are becoming battlefields instead of playgrounds.

Perhaps we should think old-school to fix the problem once and for all. Put a bunch of kids in a gym and throw them a ball. Let them pick the teams. Use the honor system to call their own fouls and decide the amount of time each kid plays.

Oh, and let’s do this, too. Lock the parents out of the gym. Let them watch the game through the wires in the windows of the lobby doors.

On the drive home from the pickup game, a kid just might say, “Hey, Dad, next time we play, you can just drop me off and pick me up after the game?”

Rich Strack can be reached at katehep11@gmail.com.