Little league, Big Reactions

Nervous Systems in the Stands

If you ever need a real-time lesson on nervous system dysregulation, skip the textbook and head straight to your nearest Little League baseball field. You’ll find it right there—in living color, with sunflower seeds flying.

You’ll know you’ve arrived when you see the dad gripping the chain-link fence like it’s a life raft, the mom pacing behind the bleachers doing deep sighs, and the coach who looks one bad call away from needing an emergency mindfulness app. Welcome to the jungle, friends. The sympathetic nervous system is wide awake.

So what is nervous system dysregulation, really?

In simple terms, it’s when your body’s alarm system—the fight, flight, freeze, or fawn response—gets stuck “on” even when the actual threat has passed. Your heart races, your muscles tense, your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re yelling “SWING!” at an 8-year-old, as if your entire sense of self depends on it.

It’s not just a “bad mood” or “stress.” It’s your nervous system doing its best to protect you—but in the wrong context. Maybe the umpire’s call lights up an old sense of injustice (guilty). Maybe watching your kid struggle brings up your own childhood fears of failure or not being good enough. Either way, your body doesn’t know this is just a T-ball. It thinks you’re fighting for survival.

Personally, I remember playing basketball in high school when my dad’s yelling from the stands got so intense that our team received a technical foul. Yep, I felt it then, and I still feel echoes of that activation even typing this. Hello, nervous system memory!

How it shows up at the ball field (and beyond):

• That tightness in your chest when your kid strikes out.

• The coach barks orders even though everyone’s 9.

• The parent who can’t stop “helping” from the stands.

• The mom who looks calm but is quietly rehearsing the car ride home pep talk like it’s the State of the Union.

• And for me, seeing my son placed at the pitching mound can be so activating that I have to maintain an inner dialogue to detach from the outcome—even if it means he throws a foul ball so wildly that other parents gasp. Yeah, Karen, your son is no Cy Young either. 

Each one is a little flare of dysregulation—someone’s nervous system saying, “This feels too much.”

Regulation looks boring (and that’s the point)

A regulated nervous system isn’t flashy. It’s the parent sipping their coffee, quietly clapping whether their kid makes the play or not. It’s the coach who takes a slow breath before reacting. It’s the human who knows this is just a game—and everyone’s still learning.

Regulation doesn’t mean you don’t feel—it means your body remembers that you’re safe enough to choose your response instead of being hijacked by it.

So what can you do next time you feel activated?

1. Pause and name it: “My nervous system is in go-mode right now.”

2. Ground in your senses: Feel your feet, notice the breeze, smell the grass (and maybe the concession stand hotdogs).

3. Breathe like you’re trying to convince your shoulders to relax.

4. Model calm: Because our kids learn how to handle big feelings by watching us handle ours.

Final thought:

The ball field, like life, is full of micro-moments that wake up our old stuff. If we can meet those moments with awareness—and maybe a little humor—we turn reactivity into regulation, and chaos into connection.

And hey, if you still find yourself yelling from the stands… Just remember, it’s not you. It’s your nervous system. Give yourself a time-out, perspective, and maybe take a lap around the parking lot anyway.

Play Ball!

Mandy