Attendance Trends
March 27, 2015
Media across the US have been reporting the decline in attendance at intercollegiate football and basketball games. “It’s a national epidemic,” according to a Charleston (SC) Post & Courier column this month.
This should surprise no one. And it’s the latest proof that it is possible to get too much of a good thing. And when it comes to college football and basketball games, there is far too much indeed –
- A few too many football games during the regular season, far too many of those games televised, and an absurd number of postseason bowl games of zero significance.
- About two times too many basketball games during the regular season, far too many televised, and too often with absurd starting times and post-midnight conclusions.
The over-exposure of the college product began to suck the life out of high school football and basketball attendance two decades ago. And as the higher profile college programs have done more and more to promote their events, lower profile college programs have paid the price. Higher profile programs are now gnawing on each other’s bones.
All of this makes life tougher for us at the interscholastic level; but at the MHSAA, we’re not merely whining – we’re working to increase the attendance and enhance the spectators’ experience. A staff task force has been generating ideas, and the Representative Council has been generous with encouragement and support to implement changes in the MHSAA tournament atmosphere.
Perhaps we can pick up a few of those fans who have defected from the high price of college tickets and the slow pace of their televised games.
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.