New London — It really doesn’t sound like work: go watch games, find interesting people and tell their stories for a living. I used to say that I complain a lot because if I didn’t, people would think all I did was have fun.

Now? Vegas would make it a pick ’em as to whether my subject matter games fit better in the sports section or the police log. And while there is considerable lament dripping from the previous sentence, human behavior still remains fascinating, particularly as it relates to what sports tells us about ourselves.

Sports have become a petri dish for the rage culture that has turned many game environments unstable, through this obsession with engagement and petty disagreement, based on a “fire, ready, aim” method of communication.

I saw it again Saturday at a high school soccer game. Raise your hand if you’ve heard this one before: Adults who should know better completely unable to control themselves.

It felt innocent enough at Cannamela Field, where New London’s feel-good season —first title (ECC Division III) since 1977 with kids hailing from 10 different countries — had reached the state tournament against Jonathan Law of Milford. There couldn’t have been 100 people there for a 2 p.m. start. Gentle breeze, warm sun, very Rockwellian.

Most of the spectators sat in the spacious bleachers on what would normally be considered the “home” side of the field. But maybe 25 or so were in the bleachers closer to Bates Woods, behind the soccer benches.

As the game grew more competitive, the two coaches from Law, as coaches often do, began to lobby for calls from the officials. There were a few instances when they thought New London players “flopped” (fell intentionally to draw a potential card on the opponent). The New London folks in the stands behind them urged the officials to card the Law players in question for rough play.

The fans were not vulgar or combative. Yes he flopped; no he didn’t. And yet the Law coaches — the adults who were supposed to know better — chose to stop coaching in the middle of the game and address the fans behind them. The fans, naturally, responded. Again: Not combative or profane in any way.

It was here that the coaches, in full persecution complex, summoned the officials to the sideline because the game couldn’t possibly continue with the “hoodlums” behind them. “We can’t have this!” one of them barked. The officials, unaware of the context and focused on expediency, cleared the bleachers, asking everyone to go sit on the other side.

I should pause here to say I was standing right there. Saw and heard everything.

So now I ask: Had the coaches simply ignored what was irrelevant to the game and their team — the fans behind them — none of that would have happened. Why did they have to react? Their job is to coach their kids, not issue social commentary. Their responsibility — note that word — is to help maintain stable, healthy environments. And name one time when coaches engaging with fans furthered that.

It was not my place there to say, “shut up and coach your team,” because then I’d have contributed to more instability. Yet that’s what needed to happen. What’s said in the bleachers, provided it’s not personal, profane or combative, is no business of the coaches, who, again, must model proper behavior. The Law soccer coaches failed miserably. But then, they probably couldn’t help it.

Why? Because of what sports are telling us about ourselves: The obsession with engagement, petty disagreement and a “fire, ready, aim” method of communication created a completely unnecessary scene.

Ironically (or perhaps not) right about the time Saturday afternoon the Law coaches made ascots out of themselves, there was Penn State football coach James Franklin also yelling at a fan as he left the field, following another loss to Ohio State. And here we thought a guy with a worse record than the Washington Generals against the Globetrotters in big games would have more pressing matters.

Funny thing. Tuesday’s calendar marked Election Day, the day all so inclined got to make their voices heard. And yet as the rage culture percolates, it’s never been more important for so many of the same people to simply shut up.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro