BOTF
March 14, 2014
When MHSAA staff asked our Student Advisory Council, “How do we have a sportsmanship program that isn’t boring?,” the answer that emerged was the MHSAA’s Battle of the Fans.
On Feb. 21 we announced the winner of the 3rd Battle of the Fans - Beaverton High School (see related story). But all five finalists, and dozens of applicants, demonstrated that attendance at high school sporting events can become THE thing to do, and it can be done with both great spirit and high standards of sportsmanship.
On Feb. 16 the Student Advisory Council reviewed the finalists’ videos and the reports of site visits by SAC members and MHSAA staff; and I listened to the discussion. Here’s what I discovered they were looking for . . .
- Authenticity and consistency – not just a one-night thing; but spirited, sportsmanlike support all season long, for multiple sports.
- Not only the absence of poor behaviors, but great originality in demonstrating good behaviors.
- Inclusiveness – conducted in ways that invite all kinds of students to be involved, encourage middle school students to learn good sportsmanship and is welcoming to adults as well.
- Change. Which school and community was most changed since getting involved with the BOTF this year or over the past two or three years?
I have said often that we want the BOTF to be great fun. But it’s also intended to make a great positive difference in school sports in Michigan. And it is. Crowds are both much larger and much better behaved where the BOTF has become important. And the positive change in one school/community is helping to change neighboring districts and entire leagues.
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.