Baseball, brawls and the way of nonviolence

It promised to be a great day. The sky was a clear blue, the sun shone brightly, and the forecasters were predicting temperatures in the low 20s. “A perfect early summer’s day,” I thought, as I biked over to a nearby ball diamond. I was on my way to watch my young son Chris and his team play a doubleheader against another Winnipeg team.

What should have been a great Saturday afternoon, however, quickly deteriorated. The visiting coach took offence when our coach spoke to one of his players. He interpreted this as harassment. He began to shout and swear at our coach. Our coach remained calm, but an assistant accepted a visiting assistant’s challenge to a fistfight. Fortunately, another coach and several fans intervened. There was more shouting and lots more swearing. After a time out and some cooling off, the game resumed.

In the second game, things got much worse. Once again, the coach of the visiting team became very angry – this time because he thought the teenaged umpire favoured our team. There was more shouting and much more swearing. This time, many of the parent fans got into the fracas. Some of the men started to push each other. One pulled off his T-shirt and challenged anyone to a fight. A woman picked up a bat and started to swing it around. The verbal abuse became extreme. I expected an all-out brawl at any moment.

While all this was happening, a couple of men (including my husband Dan) were trying to separate the ones who were out of control. I and some other moms tried to help the children remain calm and out of harm’s way. At one point, my son Chris whimpered, “Mom, this is scary. What are we going to do?”

In the end, the fistfight did not erupt. Cooler heads did prevail – but just barely. The game never did resume. We went home, shaking our heads in shame and disbelief at what we had just witnessed. For the next two days, the local city paper carried the story of “parents’ rage” on its front pages.

Thankfully, the baseball association took swift action, suspending three of the six coaches and putting all on probation.

What did I learn from this experience?

• I learned that this is how mob violence begins – tempers get aroused; one person shouts at another; that person shouts back; many others begin shouting and jeering; and soon a battle is on.
• I learned that it is wrong for me to think that our Canadian society is more “enlightened” or “civilized” than societies where people find themselves drawn into religious, ethnic and other conflicts. We are capable of the same kind of rage and hatred that drives those conflicts.
• I learned that many people still believe that the way you deal with violence is to strike back. If somewhat shouts at you, you shout back; if someone swears at you, you swear back; if someone threatens you, you threaten back. The myth of “redemptive violence” – that violence can only be countered with violence – is a basic assumption held by much of our society.
• I learned that my church – the Mennonite church – has been blessed with a very special gift: a commitment to nonviolence. I am thankful that my church has taught me that retaliation does not contribute to peace and understanding, but that it only feeds anger and hatred and invites more violence.

I came away from that afternoon deeply sobered. I wept inwardly at what I had seen and heard and experienced. I wept for those adults who had engaged in such inappropriate behaviour. Even more, I wept for the children who had witnessed their vulgar display.

I also came away with a renewed commitment to the way of nonviolence. Our communities so desperately need people who will offer an alternate way. My prayer is that our churches will boldly preach, proclaim and witness to the way of peace and nonviolence – for the baseball diamond, and the world, long for it.

Esther Epp-Tiessen is the Peace Ministries Coordinator for Mennonite Central Committee Canada.