I stared into the eyes of my Little League football team. They could taste victory if they would just work together. There was a lot riding on this game for my two sons, including respect, bragging rights, and the attention of a first-grade girlfriend named Karrie. My son Caden was the quarterback, and his little brother Connor was wide receiver.

Connor ran his route and stood waiting in the end zone. The pass was beautiful — right up until it fell into the hands of the defender, Connor’s best friend Clay, who took it the length of the field for a pick six. I had to turn from coach to referee as a fight ensued in the huddle.