Last Thursday, I left one of Sam's games early after he spent the first part of the game blaming rather than encouraging his teammates and then erupted from the field, having struck out, and began throwing his gear and declaring that the umpire sucks, baseball sucks, and he was quitting.

Although this was an over-the-top instance, this is not new behavior. It's something I have observed from multiple players on multiple teams across multiple seasons since he started playing ball 3 or 4 years ago.

Sam's behavior is Sam's problem and my problem; I'm not passing the buck here. But we have a problem with culture in youth sports today. I observed the same when his sister was in competitive gymnastics, where there was a culture of drama that included glorifying & magnifying minor injuries and blaming judges rather than athletes for low scores.

There's a common refrain from employers that today's young men and women "just don't get it." They're characterized as weak, soft, ineffectual, needy, and useless.

Two or three times a week, someone says, "I just can't find good help."

But over the last 20 years, we've collectively decided to let our kids spend more time at school and extracurricular activities than they spend at home. I, and many other parents, have agreed not just to 7-8 hours per day at school but also 2-3 hours per day of band, baseball, basketball, swim, ballet, or whatever else practice.

Do the math, and you'll see that our kids spend more time with teachers and coaches than with us.

And as a friend put it over the weekend, there's too much namby-pambysism in those settings.

I agree.

Perhaps me leaving Sam's game was too much.

But I don't think so.

Sam and I discussed it on Friday, and he said he understood. And there's no mistaking that he brought the right attitude to the field over the weekend. I've got more to say about that, and I will, but for now - as promised - here's what I wrote to him after leaving the game last week.

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Son, I love to watch you play ball.

Love it!

You are a great player, and that showed tonight.

You can also be a great teammate, but that did not show much tonight.

I understand you get frustrated.

I know you need to vent that frustration.

I can't entirely agree with the coach's decision to let you guys throw your gear around when things don't go your way. It's not the right thing to do, but I've tolerated it because he allows it, and he's the coach, not me.

You took it too far tonight.

Your coach may allow it, but I won't sit around and watch you go crazy because you felt like the umpire made a bad call.

I won't listen to you holler that you hate baseball.

I won't listen to you say that you're never coming back.

And sure as hell won't sit around and listen to you say you quit.

You are a winner, and winners don't quit.

I left your game tonight because I won't listen to that nonsense.

It's unacceptable.

Your mother and I have way too much time and money invested in your baseball for me to do that.

Even more important is that you have too much time, energy, practice, and passion to act that way.

Your behavior tonight is not what I've taught you, and I won't participate.

You're too good a player for me to do that.

And you're too good a teammate for me to do that.

I hope the rest of the game turned out better, but if it didn't, remember it's just a game. I know you love it, and I know you're serious about it, but it's still just a game.

This isn't the major league.

Not yet.

You might get there someday, but you'll have to level-up your attitude and make it as good as your playing.

I love you, kiddo. You mean the world to me.

And I can't wait to see you play again.