What happened at a Jefferson High School basketball game last Friday night is, of course, deplorable. Some kids in the student section, dressed in stars and stripes for an American theme night, chanted “build a wall” at Dover High School’s predominately Hispanic team, and called out “ashy knees” to a black player.
You know the fallout. News reports. A letter from Dover officials condemning the behavior. A letter from Jefferson apologizing — with the caveat that it was a minority of knuckleheads who caused the trouble. Investigations are promised by town, county and state school officials. The attorney general wants a report. Maybe a lawsuit will follow. It’s the world we live in.
While what those few Jefferson students did is disgusting, anybody who’s been to a high school basketball game, particularly in some suburbs, in the past few years probably isn’t shocked.
Student sections have grown increasingly mean-spirited, at times even cruel. All in the name of good clean fun.
They mock opposing players’ appearances.
They chant “air ball” at a kid who shoots and misses the rim — not just for the errant shot, but every subsequent time he touches the ball.
They chant “you can’t do that” when a player commits a foul.
They single out certain players, derisively sing-songing their name.
They scream when a kid from the other team goes to the foul line.
Students from affluent towns have a “someday you’ll be working for us” chant for the kids from blue-collar towns.
All delivered from the safety of the mob.
It’s no longer just about cheering for your team; it’s about tearing down the other.
Sitting in the stands these days is taken by some kids as a license to be insulting, cutting, and yell things to players they would never say to their faces.
And that’s what is most disturbing about these student sections. The cowardice. And the pack mentality.
“It doesn’t take a lot of guts to make fun of somebody from the anonymity and safety of the crowd,” said Steve Jenkins, the athletic director at Bloomfield High School, who has been a player, coach and administrator for 40 years. “At our place, we try to keep the personal stuff off-limits. We try to convey to our kids to keep their remarks toward our own team.”
The second most-disturbing thing is that many parents and school officials just dismiss it as “kids having fun.”
But that’s also the world we live in. Adults as buddies, not enforcers.
Jenkins tells how he used to try to stop his students from yelling during foul shots.
“But I’d see (visiting team) teachers and administrators and parents doing it to our kids, so that ship has sailed,” he said. “I gave up on that one.”
John McCarthy, a Montclair State University professor and co-founder of the Yogi Berra Museum’s Coaching Institute, says the bad behavior is a case of monkey see, monkey do.
“These high school kids are doing what they see on TV,” McCarthy said. “I’ve written to ESPN saying, ‘Please stop showing the (Duke University) ‘Cameron Crazies,’ who have built a legacy of boorish behavior. Now it’s trickled down to the high school level.”
McCarthy said the problem is that TV coverage makes fans part of the exhibition.
“ESPN reinforces the false ideology that fans are participants rather than merely onlookers with their ‘ Rivalry Week,’ ” he said. “It’s a bonanza for them when students storm the court, a very dangerous and unsportsmanlike action that grows from one-upmanship. If students at one school watch crowds go wild, and the announcers applaud their partisanship, how can they resist outdoing them?”
Jenkins put it succinctly:
“The things we used to consider bad sportsmanship, are now seen as cool,” he said. “It’s what they see on TV. It’s what gets the attention.”
Bob Sferrazza has been refereeing basketball for 40 years. If you’ve been to any basketball game – from CYO to the pros – you know it takes a special kind of masochist to put on the striped shirt and whistle. Seems like every call is hooted by half the place.
“To me, the parents are worse,” he said. “I’ve noticed the parents have become more unruly and hostile. And they don’t let up.”
So what to do?
Observe and teach. And maybe throw people out of the gym from time to time.
“At our games we have a faculty presence,” Jenkins said. “Our teachers know who the knuckleheads are. They know who the leaders are. We don’t want to hamstring the kids – we want them to have fun. But they have to know where the lines are drawn.”
And since we’re educating, a good place to start is with the words of Teddy Roosevelt:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood … who knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Mark Di Ionno may be reached at mdiionno@starledger.com. Follow The Star-Ledger on Twitter @StarLedger and find us on Facebook.
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