By now, most people have at least some nebulous awareness that there are people who play video games competitively for a lot of money, and franchises from traditional sports are starting to take notice. Amateur leagues are forming all over the world to provide an outlet for people without the time and skill to play in the large official leagues. Overall, it’s an exciting time for anyone who likes competitive gaming.

But we’re also at something of a crossroads. I’ve been a League of Legends player for years and recently joined the production team for a regional collegiate league doing weekly shoutcasts and commentary on matches. In that time, I’ve noticed some worrying trends.

I love the game. I want to see it grow, but there is one major problem that the community needs to solve if e-sports is going to earn its place as a respectable pastime, or else it will stay deservedly at the fringe. That is the incredibly toxic behavior of its communities. Amateur leagues have the potential to do good work on the toxicity problem; they are not currently making use of it.

Because amateur leagues provide a service that players want, they have leverage over toxic players that no one else has. They could use that power to discipline repeat offenders, barring them from the league unless their behavior improves. Instead, amateur leagues have repeatedly dropped the ball in addressing this issue, and even install toxicity at their highest levels.

‘Thick skin’ is a phrase that comes up a lot, the implication being that if you’d rather not be casually insulted while trying to relax and play a video game, you’re weaker than those who embrace it and participate in it. But ‘thick skin’ isn’t an idea you can build a social and functional community on.

Consider the appeal and importance of “beer league” hockey to fans of the sport. The best of those leagues are community affairs featuring, at worst, good-natured ribbing between friends. In traditional sports, an amateur league is a place for those who love the game to play it with organization and stakes.

As similar amateur and grassroots leagues for various competitive games grow, they are instead inheriting the larger behavioral problems within the game, congregating large numbers of toxic players in one place.

Such leagues are plagued by conflicts of interest, poor professional standards, and a lack of oversight. Many leagues are unwilling to discipline players or coaches for poor conduct, citing the need for ‘thick skin’ in the competitive game environment. This cannot continue if e-sports wants to become mainstream entertainment.

I’m not breaking new ground here. Developers are increasingly frightened of interacting with their fans on social media for fear of the deluge of poorly-spelled vitriol that follows even the most innocuous post. But the prevailing attitude of the community is that nothing can be done.

Amateur leagues are in a unique position here: since they interact with their players more regularly, they also have the opportunity to provide a real consequence for rampant toxicity. Instead, they allow it.

Think about how proud people usually are of their hobbies. Avid readers are happy to tell you about what they’ve been reading lately, and fans of the same TV show will bond nearly instantly over it when they meet. Not so with League. Saying that you play League still feels more like an admission of guilt than anything.

That problem will only be fixed when the communities that follow these games learn to self-police and punish toxic behavior. Amateur leagues are positioned to be at the forefront of a push to clean up the community. Instead, they are becoming a reflection of the worst elements of it.