JUPITER, Fla. - Four years ago or so, Mike Matheny did what I suspect every single youth coach in every sport in America has wanted to do at some point in his or her life. He laid out his demands. He opened up his computer on a flight to St. Louis, and he started typing. And typing. And typing.

The first few words might tell you where he was going.

“I always said that the only team that I would coach would be a team of orphans,” he wrote. “And now, here we are.”

This was a few years before Matheny would become manager of the St. Louis Cardinals. And it was after he had played 13 years as a catcher in the Major Leagues. His youngest son was 10 and ready to play baseball. Friends wanted Matheny to manage the team.

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There was no way Matheny was going to do that. No way. No chance. He had watched his older children play sports, and he could barely stand it. He watched parents screaming at their kids. He watched parents screaming at the umpires. He watched parents screaming at the coaches. He watched coaches who sucked the joy out of the game, so they could win a stupid trophy. He watched coaches who missed their chance to teach life lessons about character and values, and this was the worst thing of all.

“Why even play sports otherwise?” Matheny recently asked me.

After attending his children's games for a while, Matheny was so disgusted by it all, he would sit apart from everyone else, somewhere off in the distance and quietly watch his kids. "Coach youth sports?" he wondered years ago. "Are you kidding?"

And then, it hit him. Maybe he WOULD coach sports. But he needed to do it on his own terms. He started typing his demands. In time, the 2,556-word beast would become known as “The Matheny Manifesto.” But he didn’t write it as a manifesto. He wrote it as his non-negotiable requirement for taking the job.

Here’s what he demanded:

• “You as a parent need to be a silent, constant source of support.” The word “silent” appears twice in that paragraph.
• “The boys will not shake their head or pout or say anything to the umpire.”
• “I would like for these boys to have some responsibility for having their own water.”
• “The boys will be required to show up ready to play … shirts tucked in, hats on straight and pants not drooping to their knees.”
• “I understand that for some of you, it may not be the right fit. … Let me know as soon as possible whether or not this is a commitment that you and your son want to make.”
• “I know it is going to be very hard not to coach from the stands and yell encouraging things to your son. But I am confident this works in a negative way … I am saying that if you hand your child over to me to coach them, then let me do my job.”

There is a lot more, of course, but this gets at the basic message. Matheny was saying that if they really wanted him to coach, he wouldn’t entertain suggestions from parents, he did not want them coaching from the side or getting their kids water and he would expect the players to be on time, hustle and be respectful, or they would not play. If you coach youth sports, there’s a pretty good chance you’re applauding right now.

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The meeting where he presented his letter – there were 12 families there – well, everyone agreed that it was pretty tense. Matheny did not hold back. He did not tone down his expectations. In the end, the parents agreed. Matheny coached the team his way. Every practice, for 30 minutes, he would gather the players and go over a character lesson. He tried to make sure not to interfere too much in the game. He let the catchers call their own pitches. He tried to teach them how to play. In time, his one team expanded to four. A major sponsor came on. More people in St. Louis wanted to get involved.

Then, a couple of funny things happened. One, Matheny was coaching one of his youth teams in the Dominican Republic, and he got a call from Cardinals general manager John Mozeliak, who offered him the St. Louis manager job. He obviously accepted and last year took the Cardinals to the playoffs. This year’s team goes into the season as one of the best in the National League.

Two, his letter made it to the Internet. Matheny doesn’t know who posted it or how it happened, but the thing went viral. “The Matheny Manifesto,” it was called. People had all sorts of opinions about his letter – a few where negative (“Who do you think you are?”) but most were overwhelmingly positive. Coaches talked about how they wanted to institute this philosophy into their own coaching. Parents talked about how they wanted the children to learn more and have more fun playing sports.