Domestic Solutions
September 6, 2013
Kudzu was introduced to this continent in the late 1800s to control soil erosion in the southern United States. Now, this fast-growing Asian climbing vine is choking out all other vegetation. This seriously invasive species is growing at a rate faster than 150,000 acres each year in spite of millions of dollars spent to control it.
Asian carp were introduced to this continent one hundred years later, primarily for the purpose of cleaning commercial catfish ponds in Arkansas. They escaped into the Mississippi River and have proliferated, eating voraciously and growing to immense proportions. They now threaten the commercial fishing industry of the Great Lakes.
When we invite what appear to be relatively easy outside solutions to difficult internal problems, we invite more serious problems.
Whatever issues we face in school sports are best addressed by schools themselves using the resources at hand. No outside agent can be introduced to solve the problems we confront. No software is the silver bullet, and no sponsor provides the sustenance to keep educational athletics not only alive, but well.
It is up to us alone – administrators, coaches, officials. Using the natural resources right in front of us. Here and now.
I’d prefer to see the kudzu and carp when I travel in Asia, not America.
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.