When my baseball-playing son was in high school, the best team in our conference was big on chants and chatter. When he faced them junior year, he got roughed up, and endured a loud, unpleasant experience--one he heard about all summer because a couple of those guys were on his summer team.
When he faced them senior year, they came in pumped up--undefeated and averaging more than 10 runs per game--and their dugout was at a crescendo from the first pitch. An infield single, an error, and a bunt single* loaded the bases in the first, and the noise from the dugout was deafening.
He restored some order by striking out one of his summer teammates to get out of the jam. Then he locked in and allowed only one other base runner the rest of the way. His RBI single around the 3rd or 4th inning produced the game's only run.
Their dugout settled down considerably by the second time through the lineup. By that time they had reached the "acceptance" stage of grief and realized neither their bats nor their voices would have any effect that night.
They were as quiet as pet fish while he nailed it down in the seventh.
Playing well really is the only answer to chatter.
*Stressed-out dad, five years later: "That's not a hit! They tried for the force out! It's a fielder's choice!"