The Loudest Person in the Gym Is Usually the Problem
I’ve been coaching long enough to know that the most dangerous person in the gym isn’t on the court.
It’s in the stands.
A new survey came out this week that put numbers to something every youth coach already knows: 46% of us have been verbally harassed. And more than half the time, it’s coming from parents. Not opposing fans. Not strangers. Parents — of the kids we’re trying to help.
Last week in Staten Island, a youth basketball game ended with a fight in the bleachers. Kids were crying. Police showed up. And somewhere in the middle of all that, a bunch of adults forgot why any of us were there in the first place.
Here’s what gets me: we tell our kids that sports build character. We sign them up for travel teams and pay for private trainers because we believe basketball — or soccer, or baseball — will teach them discipline, teamwork, resilience. How to lose with grace. How to win without arrogance.
And then we scream at a ref over a fourth-grade travel game.
We tell them sports build character, and then we show them ours.
Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus: “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs.”
I think about that verse every time I step into a gym. Not because I’m perfect — I’m not — but because I know my kids are watching. Not just my players. My own kids. They see how I talk to refs. They hear what I say when the other coach makes a call I don’t like. They’re learning, whether I’m teaching or not.
And so are yours.
The truth is, most of us aren’t yelling because we care about the game. We’re yelling because somewhere along the way, our kid’s success became our success. Their playing time became our validation. Their scholarship became our story to tell at work.
We made youth sports about us. And when you make something about yourself, you’ll fight to protect it.
I coach because I love the game. But more than that, I coach because I remember what it felt like to have adults who believed in me — who showed up, stayed calm, and let me fail without making it a crisis.
That’s what kids need. Not a parent who fights their battles. Not a dad who knows more than the coach. Just someone in the stands who’s actually for them, not performing through them.
The loudest person in the gym is usually the problem.
Be the quiet one. Be the steady one.
Your kids are watching.