When is it time to turn around and stare?

“HEY, WAGLER! FUCK YOU!”

That was the first one I heard.

The barrage of shouted insults, including toward University of Illinois’s Keaton Wagler, was well underway by the time I took my seat in front of the upper-deck Izzone.

“Sounds like someone didn’t leave his tailgate thirsty,” I told the guy next to me in Section 231. Saturday was an 8 p.m. game. Lots of pregame opportunities.

“He’s been at it since we got here half an hour ago,” my neighbor said.

It wasn’t hard to spot the culprit and his buddies. The college kid was wearing his “FUCK Michigan” shirt with pride. 

I can’t imagine anyone on the court could hear this kid hurl a continuous string of profanities at anyone wearing an orange Illinois jersey or a zebra-striped referee jersey. That didn’t stop him.

Using common slang for the external male reproductive organ was a favorite for the vulgar heckler.

As a fan sitting directly two or three rows in front of him, I heard it all. 

At first, I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I’ll admit it, he was funny sometimes. His agitation was understandable at times. At no time was the language appropriate.

It went on. And on. And it probably would have continued until the end of the game had he not crossed the line by targeting a young Illini fan in a beanie hat. Maybe he was 10? 

The boy was sitting, presumably, with his mom, who was wearing a not-inexpensive orange coat and sitting with a row of adult Illini fans. 

“HEY, BEANNIE! YOU CAN’T CLAP THAT!”

“HEY, BEANNIE! SIT DOWN!”

Then he tied an expletive to his bullying. Mom turned around and glared upward. Section 231 started to revolt. 

“This isn’t how we conduct ourselves here,” one Spartan mom yelled back at him.

“This isn’t how we conduct ourselves?” he sneered back loudly. “This is MY school.”

Another woman glared back at him.

“The game is over there,” he shot back rudely. “Over there.” 

The guy next to me got into the mix. 

“Hey, you gotta shut your hole,” my neighbor said. “We’ve had to put up with your crap all game and we’re tired of it.”

I gave him a glare and locked eyes.

“The game is over there!” he shouted at me.

“I’m looking at you,” I shot back. Jeremy Fears drove to the hoop. The game was tight. Tensions were high. 

“The game is over there,” he returned back, a little more meekly.

“And I’m looking at you,” I sneered back. 

A couple of ushers came up at that point. Even his friends started backing away from him. He was forced to cover up his shirt, and he earned himself a babysitter for the rest of the game. The alternative was a one-way escort out.

You didn’t know any of that, but you did know this: A union worker at Dearborn’s Ford plant yelled, “pedophile protector” at President Donald Trump. The President retorted with a middle finger and a couple of “Fuck you”s.

On a recent social media post, the President put the faces of former President Barack Obama and Michelle Obama on a pair of monkeys.

His spokesperson tried to defend it before the whole post was taken down. U.S. Rep. John James and South Carolina’s U.S. Sen. Tim Scott were among those not impressed.

Putting all policy aside, the President has pushed the bounds of what is socially acceptable since he’s been in the political sphere – the nicknames, the bullying, the name calling.

Yet, for years, almost half of the population has tolerated it, if not overtly encouraged it. And let civility erode. And let the prestige of the world’s highest elected position deteriorate.

Is there that point where people in that other half break away and say, “No. This is not acceptable. We’re not tolerating this anymore?” 

Will they turn around and stare? Will they not back down? Will they say, “We’ve had to put up with your crap for 10 years and we’re tired of it.”

For the good of the country, you’d hope so.

 (Kyle Melinn is the editor of the Capitol news service MIRS. You can email him at melinnky@gmail.com.)