Singing the Praises of Unsung Heroes

July 2, 2013

By Rob Kaminski
MHSAA benchmarks editor

“Standing in the Shadows of Motown” is a documentary released in 2002 celebrating a group of musicians who called themselves the Funk Brothers.

Never heard of them?

All this unheralded group did was rack up more No. 1 hits than the Rolling Stones, Beatles, Beach Boys and Elvis – combined – during their unparalleled run as the musicians who drove the Motown sound.

Smokey Robinson, Diana Ross, Martha Reeves, Marvin Gaye, et al, took the bows; but it was this group of selfless, tireless, talented artists which thrust the vocalists to the front of the stage.

How quickly we recognize those songs from the first notes of that signature bass; the vibrant siren of horns, and rhythmic snapping of fingers before a single lyric is introduced.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, we introduce to you the Funk Brothers (and Sisters) of school sports: the athletic administrators.

The profession calls for selfless, tireless, talented individuals who trumpet the efforts of students, orchestrate harmony among coaches and parents, and set the stage for local, affordable entertainment within their communities.

In Michigan, the group assumes this responsibility with unwavering ambition and enthusiasm, setting a solid foundation for the futures of roughly 300,000 athletic participants annually.

As MHSAA Executive Director Jack Roberts notes, “They don’t try to be the stars of the show, but they are indispensable for letting the stars shine – the student-athletes and their coaches.”

It is a role they cherish, taking nearly as much pride in their school family as their own. It’s both a byproduct and a prerequisite for such a job that commands long hours and a knack for interaction with a wide array of personalities and age groups.

Mostly, it’s the young people who make it all worthwhile. They are, after all, the reason the job exists.

“Just watching so many students grow up from immature kids to young adults who now are very successful, and how they appreciate all the extra time you spent with them is rewarding,” said Marc Sonnenfeld, the district athletic director and dean of discipline at Warren Fitzgerald.

“And most important is the, ‘Thank You,’ you get five or 10 years later for pushing them and teaching them life lessons they will never forget.”

In a position largely devoid of gratitude, it’s little wonder that the smallest displays mean the most.

“Having a coach thank me for supporting them, and watching student growth through athletics mean a lot to me,” said Eve Claar, in her fourth year as athletic director and assistant principal at Ann Arbor Pioneer High School.

Brian Gordon, less than a year into his post as director of athletics and physical education for Novi High School/Middle School after 22 years as a coach and teacher in Royal Oak, also enjoys the impromptu reunions.

“One of the things I most enjoyed was having kids come back to the programs either as a coach, parent, or simply as a fan,” Gordon said. “Nothing is better than when I would look behind the backstop and see some former players watching and laughing while listening to me say the same things I had said 10 years earlier.”

Lessons learned along the way

The typical path taken to the administrative office usually includes a stop or two in the coaching realm, which assists in the transition to life outside the playing boundaries.

“The experiences you bring from coaching are a huge help. I made plenty of mistakes as a coach that I see my own coaches make to this day,” said Chris Ervin, in his seventh year as the activities director at St. Johns High School. “You make mistakes, learn from them, and then make sure not to make them again.

“My philosophy – although not realistic, but certainly something to strive for – is this: we would have much better coaches if these three prerequisites were in place. 1) Coaches must be a parent first; 2) must be an official, and 3) must be an athletic director. If coaches had to have these three experiences before being allowed to coach, they would have a whole new perspective when working with students, parents and officials.”

Having been coaches first, however, lends an appreciation to the task of working with students on a daily basis and an understanding as to how an athletic director can best assist his or her coaches.

“Being a coach helped me to learn time management, and I became better at making relationships. In my job now, it helps me to look at things from the coaches’ viewpoints,” said Christian Wilson, the athletic director and assistant principal at Gaylord High School for 11 years. “As a coach, you have an immediate impact on students; administration involves more interaction with adults.”

A coaching background also can cause an athletic director to re-examine his or her days as a coach, and how they might have had a greater awareness for a former administrator’s tasks.

”The learning curve as the athletic director is massive,” said Gordon. “The job itself is huge. As a coach, you just worry about your own sport. As athletic director, I have more than 70 teams to tend to and over 100 coaches to worry about. Coaching and teaching only scratch the surface of what happens in any athletic office every day, but doing that for more than 20 years has helped the transition significantly.”

It is a viewpoint shared by Ken Mohney, a 14-year director of student activities for both the high school and middle school at Mattawan Consolidated Schools.

“Athletic administration opens up the big picture of the department and school mission. Instead of only focusing on the sport that one coaches, administrators must coordinate a program so that all sports collectively enhance the academic success of the entire school,” said Mohney, who also coached three sports at Mattawan for eight years prior to assuming his current duties. “I miss the connection to players and students that I had as a teacher and coach, as it is much more difficult to create and maintain positive relationships with kids in an administrative role.” 

The majority of administrators who have had experience coaching admit to missing the close interaction with students and the opportunity to watch them develop into successful adults.

But, in some respects, the number of lives one can reach as an administrator is multiplied, and the scrapbook moments just take on slightly different poses.

Mike Thayer, athletic director and assistant principal for the past six years at Bay City Western High School following a decade at Merrill, recounts one of his proudest days in the business.

“In 1999, Merrill Community Schools had two MHSAA Scholar-Athletes Award winners,” Thayer said. “The senior class that year had approximately 80 students; yet, they produced two winners of this prestigious award. I miss the student interaction and school pride associated with team-building in coaching, but I do not miss the travel.”

Many duties call

Some ADs, however, might rather board the buses than schedule them, another of the many duties carried out on a weekly basis. In some cases, the position is responsible for school-wide transportation, not just athletic transportation.

Where once being the AD meant just that, the title for many in the profession today also includes a “/” before or after the words “athletic director.” It’s a trend which threatens the growth and quality of athletics in the educational mission of schools.

Even in schools where athletics are well entrenched and participation numbers soar, the people leading the charge are being asked to do more with less, often taking on responsibilities once doled out to two, and even three, individuals.

“Some of the larger challenges for me include the budget, balancing a very large work load, and just having enough time to evaluate coaches and programs effectively,” said Claar, who estimates that 60 percent of Pioneer’s 1,893 students participate in at least one sport.

Figuring conservatively, that’s more than 1,000 students deserving of her utmost attention in their extracurricular pursuits. But Claar also is assistant principal to the entire student body.

“Given the additional responsibilities, ADs are often spread too thin,” she said. “The time constraints make it difficult to complete all of the assigned tasks.”

Sonnenfeld, like so many others, attempts to split the time down the middle, but it rarely works out that way by the time he’s also done monitoring the cafeteria during lunch for a couple periods most days.

“I see between 35-60 kids every morning for various discipline issue,” said Sonnenfeld of one portion of his title. “I usually get to athletics by 1:00. I do as much as I can in the time that I have and then stay late on game days and catch up. And in my free time I’m responsible for renting out the athletic facilities. I make myself leave at a normal time on non-event days so that my family sees me.”

Additionally, he oversees the middle school athletic program, and feels guilty that he can’t devote more time to that level. He needn’t feel that way. If it weren’t for Sonnenfeld, the middle school would not have athletics at all.

“The middle school suffers because I cannot get down there to watch over stuff, but this is better than not having any middle school sports at all. They canceled them for a year, and got rid of the middle school athletic coordinator position and put the duties on me,” he said.

Sonnenfeld is not alone. Duties seem similar across the board.

“I am also responsible for coordinating all building facility usage, fundraising and transportation as well as lunch/hallway supervision before, during and after school,” Mohney said. “Athletic administration alone for grades 6-12 in a Class A school is a full-time, 14-hour-a-day job.  It is extremely difficult.”

While not included in his title of activities director, Ervin, too, is expected to mete out discipline and supervise lunches on a regular basis.

“Time is a major obstacle,” Ervin said. “When our assistant principal is out of the building I take on most of the discipline in his absence, which leads to days where athletics and activities get zero attention.”

Rewarding pursuit

While frustrations can mount, the leaders of school sports programs also tend to be tough self-critics. Somewhere along the line, these folks noticed sacrifices being made by people like them while they were the same age as today’s students. They now carry those lessons forward. 

“I had a very positive experience as a three-sport athlete in high school. My coaches all motivated me toward excellence while providing positive lessons and guidance,” said Mohney. “After graduation and upon returning to Michigan after four years of active military duty, my high school football coach offered me a JV football coaching position and strongly suggested that I may have what it takes to be a good teacher and coach. That guidance inspired me.” 

Ditto for Gordon.

“When I hired into Royal Oak, there were several people who impacted me as a professional,” Gordon said. “Chuck Jones was our district AD, and he along with Frank Clouser (varsity baseball coach) really made a difference in where I am today. Chuck was always the constant professional who is arguably the most organized and efficient man I have ever met. Frank is the best coach I have ever been around. I have never met a coach who would break down skills and have the unique ability to teach every facet of the game.”

Creating similar moments for countless student-athletes in their hallways is the ultimate goal for today’s athletic directors. Being told they’ve done just that is enough to make all the cafeteria supervision worthwhile.

“The most rewarding part of athletics is when I observe a student who has come from a tough home environment, and through his or her involvement in athletics, they shine,” said Ervin.

“I always love it when graduated student-athletes come back to visit the school,” Mohney said, “so I can meet their children and hear of their successes in life.”

PHOTO: Greenville athletic director Brian Zdanowski points out features of the home lockerroom at Legacy Field, which opened for his school's football teams last fall. 

Heartfelt Thanks for a Life Saved

November 13, 2012

By Geoff Kimmerly
Second Half editor

ELSIE – Like many who have played high school football, the practice field will always be more than just another piece of lawn to Ovid-Elsie’s Chris Fowler.

Over his right shoulder, beyond a few of the fields that surround his high school, sits his family’s house. To his left is the finish to the school’s cross country course his younger sister was preparing to run the day his heart stopped beating.

In this spot, on Oct. 9, the 16-year-old Fowler collapsed while he and his teammates ran 40-yard sprints. His heart, for reasons doctors could not explain, went into an irregular rhythm that caused him to go into cardiac arrest.

“It still doesn’t (make sense),” Fowler said two weeks later. “I try to forget it as much as I can. It’s not worth remembering. I don’t want to think about it.”

But the Marauders sophomore will always remember those who brought him back to life that day.

Thanks to the quick, calm response of Ovid-Elsie football coach Travis Long and his staff, and the speedy work of athletic director Sonya Latz to retrieve the school’s AED device, Fowler’s heart was shocked back to life.  

Unlike too many national news stories lately of athletes who died far too soon of similar circumstances, this story ends well.

Fowler’s father Dave knows it is because every detail was carried out to perfection. Standing near the cross country finish line, he was there to watch it all.

“Truthfully,” Dave said, “I thought it was the end of my world.”

Trying to remember, trying to forget

Both father and son knew the story of Fennville’s Wes Leonard, who died from sudden cardiac arrest after making the game-winning shot in a basketball game March 3, 2011.

They hadn’t heard of the all-state football and basketball player before that day, but Dave began following the story as it became national news and spurred an effort to have AEDs in every school. 

AED stands for automated external defibrillator. The device combats sudden cardiac arrest by detecting an irregular heart beat and delivering a shock that can put the heart back into correct rhythm. Ovid-Elsie High School has two. The first was purchased through the Kimberly Anne Gillary Foundation, which was started after Gillary, a student at Troy Athens, died of sudden cardiac arrest during a water polo game in 2000. The second was donated by alum and former basketball player Daryl Melvin, now a cardiologist in Lansing.  

Chris remembers reading about Leonard’s death the day after and thinking there was no way it could happen again to someone like him.

Dave Fowler recounts in his head daily how it nearly did.

The image he can’t get out of his mind is that of Chris’ coaches flipping him over and starting chest compressions.

“It’s just like it was unreal. It was like a bad dream I was waiting to wake up from,” Dave said.

Chris remembers none of it.

He’s a strong student who even before this was considering becoming a doctor. He’s the middle child of three – sister Maria graduated in the spring, and Morgan is in eighth grade. Basketball is Chris’ favorite sport, and he also played soccer growing up – but frequently was carded for running over opponents.

So logically, in eighth grade, he gave football a try. Two years later, at 6-foot-3 and 265 pounds, Fowler was a starting offensive tackle on the varsity.

The Marauders’ Oct. 9 practice was dedicated to defense. Fowler took a shot to the ankle and rolled it, and remembers mentioning it to quarterback Jake Helms. That was probably about 25 minutes before the team began its daily conditioning, a set of 20 short sprints run at half to three-quarters speed.

Dave watched his son run while waiting for Morgan’s race to begin. Her mom Amy was at the starting line, and their grandparents also were in attendance, part of a larger crowd because the cross country jamboree included multiple teams from all eight schools in Ovid-Elsie’s league.

And then shock. “I knew what was going on,” Dave said. “But it was denial that I was really seeing what I was seeing.”

Call to quick action

Suddenly, Chris was face down on the ground.

Only moments later, Long and assistant Brad Sutliff were flipping him over. Long, a physical education teacher at the school, began the chest compressions. Another coach blew breaths into Fowler’s lungs.

Dave, perhaps acting on instinct as much as anything, yelled for anyone to find his wife. He took off toward Latz, who also had made her way to the cross country finish area, yelling for her to get the AED.

Word of Fowler's dire situation quickly made its way through the crowd. The Bullock Creek cross country team, surely among many others, began to pray. And Dave will never forget watching Chris’ teammates, standing a short way off, yell at him, “Don’t give up! Keep fighting!”

Latz, in the school’s Mule utility vehicle, raced to the trainer’s room, grabbed the AED and raced back. A parent from another school who is a nurse asked if she could help and took the AED to the coaches, who connected it to Fowler.

The AED gives the user explicit instructions on how to operate it, including where to attach connections and when to step away as to avoid also receiving a shock.

Sutliff was holding Fowler’s head and didn't want to set it down. But he had to – the shock was so strong it lifted Fowler’s body off the ground.

The jolt also reset his heart.

The next thing Fowler remembers, he was in the ambulance on the way to Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, vomiting. And he couldn't see. He flashed his hand in front of his face, trying to find it. It was then that he found out his heart had stopped.

After a night at Sparrow, Fowler  was taken to the University of Michigan’s C.S. Mott Hospital, where he spent five days. Fowler went through the battery of tests. No problems were found. The family doesn't have a history of heart trouble. Doctors said there were no blockages.

“They said basically that it’s a miracle. There are no side effects, none whatsoever,” Dave Fowler said. “No heart damage, no organ damage. The neurologist said his brain function is perfect; there’s nothing wrong with it. And they all say that stems from the quick reaction from the coaches. … The doctor said he’s never seen chest compressions done that well.”

Ovid-Elsie has a disaster plan in place for situations like these, but had never had to put it into play for a life-threatening situation as long as Latz has been part of the athletic staff – dating back to her first year coaching in 1989.  

It went off without a hitch. The whole process of starting compressions, retrieving and hooking up the AED and restarting Fowler’s heart took maybe a bit more than five minutes.

“The coaching staff is amazing, how smooth and calm everybody kept just to do their jobs. I’m just amazed,” Latz added. “I shouldn't say ‘amazed.’ Because I trust that they are very good. I’m just proud of the way they handled everything.”

She added that Ovid-Elsie’s National Honors Society has asked about raising funds to purchase an AED for a school that doesn't have one.

Many thanks to give

Fowler wears two bracelets he received while at U-M. One reads “Hearts working together,” and the other “And the beat goes on.” He was considering becoming a neurologist some day, but now cardiology seems pretty cool.

Fowler’s friends don’t ask much about that day. They know he’s trying to block it out of his memory. But others do ask the “ridiculous questions. Like, you know, what did it feel like to be dead?”

His response: “I just say I wasn't getting oxygen to my brain, so I don’t remember anything.”

The questions don’t make him angry. It’s easy to figure out quickly that Fowler is the type to let such things just roll off.

When Fowler does hear his story re-told, he feels like it’s about someone else.  

But he’s a smart guy, and he’s heard enough doctor talk to understand what’s going on.

The biggest bummer is he can’t play basketball. His career in contact spots is over. That leaves golf, and he might take it up eventually. This winter, he’s going to be on the bench with his varsity teammates and he’ll help with the freshmen team and perhaps Morgan’s eighth-grade team too.

He still sounds like a football player. “It’s a lame scar,” he said of the small cut under the front of his left shoulder. Embedded in a “pocket” under his skin on the left side of his chest is an implantable cardioverter defibrillator – or ICD – meant to automatically shock his heart back into rhythm if it falls out of beat again.

Fowler came back for a football practice before the Marauders season ended, and also for the parents’ night game. He’ll still be part of that program next year too. “The joke around town is I’ll be the offensive coordinator,” Fowler said.

Dave still asks himself the what-ifs of that day. He looks at his family differently. Too many times during the day he pictures those chest compressions. It’s hard for him to leave home, and he doesn't sleep well. And he’s pretty sure Chris is getting tired of his parents peeking into his room at night to make sure all is well.

Perhaps. But Fowler also has never been one to take anything for granted – although that’s another part of what makes this situation tough. He’s always one to show gratitude, but he can’t remember right now all the people he’d like to thank. He’s just doing his best.

“I can’t remember. There are so many people. I saw some people at the football game, and I just walked up and said thank you,” Fowler said. “Because they were there, praying for me or whatever.

“I’m very fortunate. It’s unbelievable.” 

Click to see more from the Wes Leonard Heart Team or the Kimberly Anne Gillary Foundation

NOTE: Chris Fowler's parents Dave and Amy would like to give special thanks to those pictured with their son (in suit and orange shoes) above: athletic director Soni Latz and football coaches Brad Sutliff, Eric Jones, Jeremy Palus, Cody Staley, Travis Long and Dustin Thiel.

PHOTOS: (Top) Chris Fowler stands in the place on Ovid-Elsie's practice field where coaches worked to restart his heart on Oct. 9. (Middle) Fowler, in his game jersey, stands on Ovid-Elsie's football field. (Bottom two photos courtesy of the Fowler family.)