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Change of Pace

January 30, 2015

Michael Schwimer is little known to us in Michigan. He was a 6-8, 240-pound relief pitcher out of the University of Virginia who was drafted in the 10th round by the Philadelphia Phillies in 2008.
In his minor league career, Schwimer earned 20 wins against 10 losses with a respectable 2.51 ERA. He struck out an eye-popping 12 batters per nine innings.
When Schwimer made his Major League Baseball debut for the Phillies in August of 2011, he served up a game-tying home run to the first batter he faced. He was traded to the Toronto Blue Jays in February of 2013, and was released by the Blue Jays the following August. You might say Schwimer majored in the minors. That’s where he peaked as a professional baseball player.
As a player, Schwimer made few waves. He wasn’t a “game changer.” And yet, he may still be known as one who helped to change the game itself.
Schwimer is widely reported to be the first MLB player to use a glove that was made of synthetics, not leather (which weighs twice as much), and was made using a plaster cast of his hand. It was a custom-made, form-fitting glove.
The result looks almost like a toy glove, fit for T-ball; but MLB gave it a “thumbs up” in December of 2011. MLB players have been warming to the glove, although very slowly.
To which Schwimer responds: “It takes forever for any change to occur. But when change happens, it happens really fast.”
That almost sounds like something Yogi Berra would have said – like, “it takes forever for change to occur, and then it doesn’t.” But experience very often teaches us the truth of this sentiment.
As the MHSAA reprocesses two of its toughest topics ever – out-of-season coaching rules and 6th-graders’ roles in school sports and the MHSAA – it seems like there is no progress toward change. And no change is the possible outcome of both long journeys.
But it’s also possible that, for one or both topics, the time will come when wisdom and will combine to create constructive change, which then seems to be occurring almost overnight.
My hope is that we find that formula before a rash of problems causes a tipping point that results in a rush toward solutions that are poorly conceived and/or politically imposed by outside entities.

A Walk in the Woods

July 3, 2018

(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on July 30, 2010)


My wife and I were on a long walk through the woods and back roads of west Michigan this summer when she remarked, “We’re not lost; but we don’t know where we are.”

We knew how to get back to our car, but we didn’t know the direction we were headed. “We’re not lost,” I mused; “but we don’t know where we are.”

That’s an apt description for interscholastic athletics. We could back-track on the path to the origins of this journey, so we’re really not lost. But I don’t know anyone who really knows where we are, which direction we might be headed.

There are few who have viewed interscholastic athletics from more angles than I; but I’m not any clearer about the future than the newest coach or most casual fan. I’ve looked at high school sports as a coach, and as the son of a coach. I’ve been involved as a player, and as the parent of two players. I’m the son of a state leader and the protégé of a national leader. I’ve been an administrator at the state and national levels. I’ve read the old histories and handbooks, and I’ve talked at length with key leaders of the past. But I don’t know where we’re headed.

Where does this path lead that relaxes or eliminates out-of-season practice and competition restrictions for athletes and their coaches? From the repeated complaints of coaches and administrators, it’s evident that path was a bad choice; but how now to find our way back? We’ve taken a few steps back, but we know it was downhill to this point and a tough uphill climb back.

Where, if ever, is the end of this path that leads to more and more commercialization of sports? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states relax or eliminate amateur and awards rules?

Where are the sporting goods manufacturers and street agents taking high school basketball? Will the game that has captured hearts and minds for generations continue its charm when the pervasive corruption of college basketball is exposed or it infects high school heroes beyond healing?

When, if ever, will the government’s thirst to regulate sports be quenched? Where, if ever, will the requests end for extra protections and privileges for special groups?

When, if ever, will seasons be long enough, travel far enough and the stakes high enough to satisfy promoters? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states take down the barricades placed on those paths by the pioneers of our programs?

Eventually, on our walk through the woods, my wife and I determined it was time to turn around and head back toward our starting point. We didn’t think we could go any further ahead and still make our way back. We knew we didn’t have the power of mind to remember more turns. We ran out of memory before we ran out of energy.

I worry that some of those who are pushing the limits of high school athletics have forgotten where they parked the car. And having forgotten this, they wander in vain through the woods, trying this turn and that.

They’ve run out of memory, but not energy; and sadly, they drag us along, deceiving us and perhaps themselves that it’s only around the next corner or over the next hill that we will see clearly again or reach our goal.

(Note: This was first published in the MHSAA’s August 1995 Bulletin and in 2000 was included in the book Raising Expectations, which is now a part of the MHSAA Library.)