Culture Wars
January 24, 2017
Our purpose in school sports is to help develop the whole child. That’s why we do not advocate that sports consume a child’s whole life.
We recognize that it’s not good to get too much of a good thing. Too many hours devoted to sports and too many months devoted to the same sport can lead to a life that is out of balance and unhealthy.
Unfortunately, every restriction we impose to protect children from such risks and to promote their good health is exploited by others. For example, by non-school club coaches that covet our kids. And by almost every convention and visitors bureau in the country that is sponsoring sports events to boost their local economy.
While we talk of balanced participation and a long-term approach that leads to a lifetime of physical activity, better health and reduced medical expenses, we are out-shouted by a culture that does not have the whole child in mind. Our frame of reference is helping to raise a healthy human being, which is challenged by a culture that is more intent on raising revenue from the athletic dreams and fantasies of children and their parents.
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.