Channeling Change

May 7, 2014

In the ubiquitous discourse about global warming and rising seas, one school of thought follows this thread: (1) global warming’s fundamental cause is beyond human behavior; but (2) changing human behaviors could slow the rate of warming; and (3) these changed behaviors would improve the environment and the quality of existence for all the globe’s life forms and therefore should be promoted even if they cannot affect the ultimate warming of the planet. 

Among those who admit to the inevitability that the planet will continue to warm regardless of humans’ best efforts are those who believe we should be planning for elevated sea levels now, not by working on ways to keep the rising waters out, but on innovative means of letting the water in.

With the Dutch, for example, among models, it is suggested that coastal communities begin today to build networks of canals that allow water to flow inland along planned routes that people can use and enjoy, and that the seawater be directed to places desperate for hydropower or where this seawater can be made free of unwanted species and fresh for human use and agriculture. 

Rather than building walls to keep the water out, build canals to let water in to be cleansed and used for our betterment.

This caused me to wonder if this kind of thinking would help us in school sports to reframe discussion on problems that seem too large for us to solve. Like the negative influence of non-school sports on interscholastic athletics and rules that limit out-of-season coaching of students by school coaches.

Out-of-season coaching is one of the focus topics for the MHSAA during the second half of 2014, and this image in response to global warming is one of several we may use to reframe discussion before we attempt to rewrite the rules. Are there ways to channel negative situations toward positive results . . . without the threat of introducing invasive species?

Friday Night Football

September 23, 2016

There continues to be among high school athletic administrators a great gnashing of teeth over encroachment of televised college football on the Friday night turf that long tradition reserves for high school football games. Little by little and year by year, college games drift to all times of the day and all days of the week, and Friday night is no longer hallowed ground for the high school game alone.

The Friday night intercollegiate fare remains mostly irrelevant games by second tier teams, but televised nonetheless because of the overabundance of production entities and networks seeking live sports events. But high school leadership is right to be on guard.

Known to very few people is a million dollar offer in the 1970s by then NCAA Executive Director Walter Byers to the National Federation of State High School Associations if it would not oppose televised college football games on Friday nights. Clifford Fagan, then executive director of the National Federation, declined the offer from his good friend; and the mutual respect these two men enjoyed brought an end to the negotiation.

Then, as now, the National Football League was prohibited by law (part of its anti-trust exception) from televising games on Friday nights and Saturdays from mid-September through mid-December where the broadcast would conflict with a live high school or college game. Under Byers, and until the NCAA lost control of intercollegiate football broadcasting as a result of a legal challenge by what was then called the College Football Association, college football leadership voluntarily gave high school football the same deference on Friday nights that the NFL did under federal law.

Today, major college football is such a ravenous revenue beast that it will schedule play at any time on any day in any location, televising every game – on college conference-controlled networks if the matchup is not attractive enough for national or even regional broadcasts. The Friday night high school football tradition can expect to be trampled as college football swarms and grunts around the feed trough like hungry hogs.