Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.
Sweating the Small Stuff - #1
May 29, 2018
I would prefer that the 51 organizations which make up the membership of the National Federation of State High School Associations would not waste another breath talking about the NFHS conducting national athletic events. But just about as frequently as U.S. presidential elections, the topic returns to NFHS meeting agendas.
About a third of NFHS member associations are somewhat in favor of national events, another third are strongly opposed, and a final third won’t offer an opinion until they are provided more details of what a national event would look like.
Most of this undecided group will reject anything that is in the nature of a national high school championship ... anything that would follow or extend seasons and diminish their own state high school championships. Most of this undecided group will reject anything involving team sports.
That has led to talk of a summertime track & field invitational event. Like dozens of other such events available to individual students without any time or expense for their schools.
Even then, there would be hours of debate about who would be invited and how, what specific track & field events would be contested, as well as when and where the event would be held. And who would pay. And what would be the fate of state associations’ existing policies which limit when, where and how much their member schools’ students may compete.
Even if the planners choose a path of least resistance for a national event, the devil will be found in the details.
While many will be busy sweating the small stuff, this association will focus on a more fundamental question: “How could the NFHS ever presume to conduct events that would cause some of its member high school associations’ schools and students and coaches to violate existing rules of their state associations?”