KIDS THESE DAYS:

One of the most pathetic behaviors of human beings is the father who gets into an argument at their kid’s athletic event.

It doesn’t matter with whom they are arguing or fighting, just as long as they get to yell, make threats and behave in the most obnoxious manner possible.

I’ve seen too many of these sad fathers in both Newport Beach and Costa Mesa to have anyone convince me that this clown act is related to demographics or socioeconomic standing.

In other words, these fools are everywhere.

Last week, two of these so-called fathers got into a shouting match at a local high school baseball game.

It started with one of the fathers giving the umpire a lot of loud grief over the calls he was making.

Then a father on the other team chimed in.

As it was escalating, I got out of my seat and told my wife I was going to walk around. What I was really going to do was get ready to call 911.

Sure enough, about 10 seconds after I pulled out my phone, these two silly men — children, really — got into a belly-to-belly shouting match.

They looked to me like two of those barking, fighting walruses on a beach that you’ve seen on a National Geographic special about animals trying to be the big shot — the alpha dog.

That afternoon, however, these men looked really small.

As they were barking and spitting in each other’s face, three dads ran over to break it up. I was next to them talking to a 911 operator, telling her that a fight was about to break out.

(For the record, it is important that you know that upon answering the call, I told the operator that I was reporting an incident that was not a life-or-death matter and asked if I was calling the right number.)

The umpire threw both of these guys out, meaning they had to leave the campus. But as they finally got around to leaving, they were 10 feet apart, still talking smack.

“Guys,” I said, “it’s a high school baseball game. Let it go.”

But they couldn’t let it go. Like the poker player who is bluffing badly but has too much money in the pot to fold, these two were all in.

So there I am on the phone with the 911 operator, walking beside these walrus poker players with just one thought: I am so glad I am not like you.

A few minutes later, they each got into their walrus mobiles and drove off.

But that wasn’t enough for a few of the remaining parents. After the game, some female walruses followed the umpire out to his car and said, “We’re not done with you.”

Well, they’d better be done with him. They should know that there were witnesses to that statement, and that someone wrote down license-plate numbers and gave them to the police.

I remind you that this is all over a high school baseball game.

Oh, and there is something else all you blustery dads — and moms — should know; something I was taught many years ago in umpire school. When an umpire makes those judgment calls, such as “safe,” “out,” “strike” and “ball,” there are no ties. A runner is safe or out, and a pitch is either a strike or a ball. Close ones could go either way.

Do you see where I’m going with that?

Dads, I’m sorry you lost your jobs. I’m sorry you’re divorced. I’m sorry that your retirement funds were cut in half because of the recession or that someone cut you off on the freeway or that the Cubs lost again or whatever lame excuse you have for losing your cool at your kid’s game. None of that gives you license to embarrass your son or daughter and make a fool of yourself in public.

Most of all, I’m sorry that you never became a professional athlete. But congratulations on becoming a professional jerk.

STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer. Send story ideas to [email protected].