The Complete Job
August 28, 2015
The difference between the great painters, poets and photographers and the rest of us is that they actually did the work, all the way through to completion. The same can be said for the greatest athletes, coaches, officials, musicians and artists. They actually did the work.
One of our most accomplished contemporary writers is Ann Patchett, author of six novels and volumes of nonfiction. She has written: “You can be smart and have the most compelling story, but if you can’t make yourself sit down and block out the noise around you, then that story will remain forever in your head.” You have to actually do the work.
One of the most important roles of schools and the MHSAA is to tell the story of school sports. We have a compelling narrative full of value and values for students, schools and society. But the story won’t get told unless we do the work.
First and foremost, this means delivering a values and value-filled program by coaches and administrators at practices and events, season after season and day after day.
Only a fraction less important is conveying to school boards, the media and the public what’s going on ... telling our story through every means available: in person, in writing, through all forms of electronic media.
Over the decades, we have managed millions of practices and events; but that’s just part of the job. Completing the job means that we must also do the hard work of managing the message of school sports ... giving meaning to educational athletics, and explaining it. Our job is not over until we do.
Tools of Thought
July 13, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.