Base Brawls: The Truth About How Fights Really Begin
- David Quattro
- Apr 20
- 6 min read
There was a moment recently in college baseball that should make every coach stop and think.
During a game between Louisiana and James Madison, Matt Deggs was coaching at third base when things started to escalate. There had already been tension building throughout the game. There was chirping between players, reactions from both sides, and a noticeable shift in the tone of the game. It wasn’t clean competition anymore.
It was starting to turn into something else.
From his position at third base, Deggs got involved as things continued to build, and within seconds the entire situation was on the edge. Players were reacting, benches were aware, and it was one moment away from turning into something much bigger.
Watch how quickly it escalated here:
Watch his postgame interview here:
What stood out wasn’t just what happened in that moment, but what it represented. That situation didn’t start there. It didn’t start when coach Deggs got involved. It didn’t start with one comment or one reaction.
It had already been building and that’s the part most people miss.
It Doesn’t Start When It Explodes
When people watch moments like that, they focus on what’s visible. They see the reaction, the confrontation, the near brawl, and they assume that’s where it began. But that’s never where it begins. That’s just where it finally shows itself.
The real start happens earlier, and most of the time it goes unnoticed.
It can start before the game even begins. Social media, group chats, players talking, things being said and carried into the field. By the time the game starts, some players are already emotionally invested in something beyond baseball.
Then it continues to build during the game. Small comments, reactions after plays, body language, tone. None of it looks like much on its own, but together it starts to shift the environment.
The game slowly moves away from execution and toward emotion. And once it gets there, it doesn’t take much.
I’ve Been In It
I’ve been in many brawls and disputes over the years. Not just at high levels of baseball, but even in pickup softball where things can escalate just as quickly. My first one happened when I was 14, and from that point on, playing at higher levels and then moving into coaching, I’ve seen it from every standpoint.
At 14, I was playing shortstop in extra innings of a tight game. There was a runner on second, and as the pitcher started his delivery, I was locked in on the play. Out of nowhere, that runner grabbed dirt and threw it straight into my face.
In that moment, the game changed. It wasn’t baseball anymore, it became personal.
We ended up winning the game, but the tension didn’t leave with the final out. You could feel it building as we lined up for handshakes. It didn’t take much. One push, one reaction, and everything escalated.
Looking back, that moment didn’t start in the handshake line. It didn’t even start with the shove. It started earlier, the second the line was crossed, and probably even before the game began.
What I Missed as a Coach
Years later, I saw it from a completely different perspective, and that experience stayed with me even more.
We had a player who, in a previous season, had been called a racial slur by an opposing team. That’s not something that just disappears. That stays with a player, whether anyone talks about it or not.
When we played that same team again, he was playing third base, right in front of their dugout. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. From a coaching standpoint, it seemed like a normal decision.
But it wasn’t.
There was history there, and I didn’t account for it the way I should have.
As the game went on, the chirping started. In another situation, it might have seemed like normal game talk. In this one, it wasn’t. You could feel the tension building underneath the surface, even if it wasn’t obvious to everyone.
Then in the middle of an inning, it happened.
He snapped, charged the opposing bench, and everything escalated instantly.
That moment wasn’t about one comment, it wasn’t about one play. It was built on something that already existed before the game even started. And as a coach, that was on me because I didn’t recognize what was building before it reached that point.
The One That Should Never Happen
There’s another situation that still sits with me, and it has nothing to do with a brawl, but everything to do with leadership.
I was an assistant coach with a team, and during a game, one of our players was called a racial slur by an opposing player. It wasn’t subtle, it wasn’t something you could miss.
Everyone heard it and nothing happened.
The head coach said nothing. He acted like he didn’t hear it, even though the entire team knew exactly what was said. I remember saying, was I the only one who heard that? And just by looking around, you knew everyone else heard it too.
But still, nothing was done. And in that moment, something was lost.
Because when a head coach doesn’t step in, when something like that is ignored, it sends a message. Not just to the player who was targeted, but to the entire team. It tells them that certain lines can be crossed without consequence.
That’s how you lose respect as a coach.
Not because of wins or losses, but because you failed to stand up for your players and for the integrity of the game. Situations like that should never fall on assistant coaches or players to handle. That responsibility belongs to the head coach.
Leadership means stepping in when it matters most, especially when it’s uncomfortable.
How It Builds During the Game
Once a game starts to shift, there are always signs. They’re subtle at first, which is why they’re easy to ignore. A comment after a play, a longer look, a reaction from the dugout.
The tone changes.
At that point, the focus begins to move away from execution and toward the opponent. Players stop competing against the game and start competing against each other. That’s when things change. Tags get harder, slides get later, throws come in tighter.
None of those things on their own start a fight, but together they create tension. If it isn’t managed, it keeps building. Players start responding instead of playing. Every inning adds to it, and eventually the game is no longer controlled by structure, it’s controlled by emotion.
Once it gets there, it doesn’t take much. A pitch too close, a hard tag, a comment at the wrong time.
The moment itself is small, but because of everything that led up to it, it becomes the trigger.
What This Means for Coaches
This is why the coach Deggs moment matters. It shows that even at the highest levels of the game, this still happens. Experience doesn’t eliminate it, talent doesn’t eliminate it. Only awareness and leadership can manage it.
Coaches set the tone, players follow it, whether they realize it or not. If a coach is calm and in control, that carries through the team. If a coach reacts emotionally, that spreads just as quickly.
The responsibility isn’t to react when something happens. The responsibility is to recognize it before it does.
Old School vs. Real Control
I come from an old-school mentality. I understand where some of this comes from. Compete hard, stand your ground, don’t back down.
But there’s a difference between competing and losing control. Real toughness isn’t shown in chaos, it’s shown in control. It’s shown in the ability to stay composed when everything around you is trying to pull you out of it.
That’s what players need and that’s what coaches need to teach.
What coach Deggs did in that moment is something that shouldn’t be ignored. While the situation escalated, there was also an element of a coach stepping in to protect his players and stand up for his team.
That matters.
Because part of coaching is not just managing the game, it’s protecting the people in it. It’s standing up when something isn’t right. It’s making sure lines aren’t crossed and it’s reinforcing what the game is supposed to represent.
Because at the end of the day, the goal isn’t just to control the moment.
It’s to protect the game.