Three weeks ago, I attended my very first JC athletic event. I suppose this could be seen as somewhat blasphemous, considering I have been at this school for nearly two years now and have had plenty of opportunities to enjoy one of its many teams.

I started to become more excited as my friend and I took our seats in the upper gym, for this was not just any sport I was going to watch—it was basketball.

Now, anyone who knows me could tell you that I normally could care less about most sports. But basketball is the exception: fast-paced, high-energy, and a game of talent and dedication. It is the one sport that I love to watch and enjoyed playing for four years at my old school.

This came and hit me upside the head as the game commenced. It was the women’s varsity basketball team against the undefeated Joppatowne Mariners, and from the very beginning, it was clear that we would give them a run for their money.

I found myself in a state of splendid euphoria. Within minutes of the first quarter, I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins as baskets were made and passes blocked; I heard my own voice identifying the plays run and fouls called.

It was as if I was back in my own jersey and Nikes, a forward ready to take my place under the net again. As this continued, I could hear the long-lost basketball hound in me ask, “Why didn’t you try out for the team last year?!”

But that question was answered when the referees apparently made a bad call. Now, I can’t recall what that call entailed, but I can tell you what, or should I say who, shattered my longing to put back on a basketball jersey: parents.

Not just any parents, oh no. The overzealous, sport-mongering, micro-managing parents. Their cries of “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” and “YOU’RE GONNA LET THEM CHEAT?!” or, my personal favorite, “MY FOUR-YEAR OLD COULD DO A BETTER JOB!” echoed throughout the gymnasium, answering my question loud and clear.

Let me make something very clear: I have absolutely no qualms about cheering for my team or even getting a little rowdy when the opposing team gets ahead. And there is certainly nothing wrong with disagreeing with the ref. But what turns me off completely from wanting to take part in organized school sports is the disrespect that the heckling parents display most hypocritically.

I’ve never understood why parents think that it is okay to act at high school sporting events like they would at a professional game. If you want to carry on and shout and criticize the players out on the field or court at an NFL or NBA game, fine by me. But parents get this idea that if they can act out and show off at a pro game, they could certainly behave the same way at their son’s baseball game or their daughter’s field hockey competition.

Well, you look a lot more foolish when you are in a high school-sized gymnasium with 30 people, and the only one screaming bloody murder at your 16-year-old’s team, than you do at an arena-sized venue filled with a few thousand fans just like you.

This isn’t support for their sons’ and daughters’ hard work and dedication to the game. No, this is the opposite: it is disrespectful for their children and an added measure of smothering pressure.

These parents are the same parents that you hear about on the news, starting fights over their children’s tee-ball games. The same parents who pressure their kids to excel in their sport to the breaking point, making them forget why they loved playing it in the first place.

I couldn’t help but cringe during the basketball game when the parents refused to move on from the ref’s controversial call. Not because it was detrimental to the game, but because once parents get hysterical, they don’t stop.

The crude commotion came to an abrupt stop, however, when one of the girls on the team faced them, and put them in their place by letting them know that it is her team’s game to play, not theirs. Plainly, a request to let them be.

I could feel the embarrassment and shame come in waves over the stands where the parents sat. I’m sure it is a humbling thing to be put in your place by the same children you taught the meaning of the words RESPECT and GOOD SPORTSMANSHIP.

Forgive me if what I have to say about high school sports seems bitter, for I do not mean to upset any parents, nor do I intend to be a muckraker hell bent on revolting against the way school sports are treated. I only want to say this that if parents continue to behave like a bunch of know-it-all fanatics, I won’t be the only one so disillusioned about sports.

Maggie Yankovich can be reached for comment at [email protected]