Different Treatment

February 25, 2014

In a perfect world we would treat every transfer student in the exact same way. We would declare every transfer student from anywhere to anywhere eligible immediately. Or we would declare every transfer student from anywhere to anywhere ineligible for a period of time that applied identically to everyone; there would be no exceptions for any student.

But educators who have been conducting interscholastic programs in every state across the country have determined that “one size doesn’t fit all.” One single rule, with no exceptions, doesn’t work. It’s either too lenient in some cases or it’s too limiting in others.

So every state high school association has developed a general policy – that students who are new to a school are not immediately eligible for interscholastic athletics; and every state high school association in the country has made exceptions to that general rule for certain students and modified the period of ineligibility for other students.

Different treatment for different students is inherent in every state association’s transfer rule. Different treatment is not only reasonable; it’s inescapable.

It is not unfair to treat some students differently than others. Very often it’s the only way to promote and protect fairness in school-sponsored sports.

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.