Coach Connection

April 21, 2017

It has been a record-setting year for the Coaches Advancement Program (CAP) of the Michigan High School Athletic Association, the interactive and face-to-face, eight-level coaches education program which the MHSAA delivers “anytime, anywhere” across the state and in conjunction with several Michigan colleges and universities.

With 20 more sessions still to occur, attendance has already exceeded the previous high of 2,055 course completions in 2013-14. By the end of this school year, individuals will have completed more than 25,000 CAP units since the 2004-05 school year.

MHSAA Assistant Director Kathy Westdorp is the energy behind this program. She’s an educator at heart and she lights up when welcoming coaches to CAP sessions. A growing cadre of presenters deliver CAP under her watchful eye.

It could have been easier had the MHSAA outsourced coaches education to an online provider; but too much would have been missed. Newer coaches would not have benefited from connecting with more seasoned coaches during group discussions; and the MHSAA would have missed this week-after-week connection with coaches of all sports in all parts of Michigan.

The thousands of dollars and hours that the MHSAA devotes to CAP demonstrates this organization’s belief that nothing – absolutely nothing – is more important in the process of educational athletics than the quality of the coach-athlete connection.

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.