Fixing Things
October 6, 2011
Leaders of schools and school sports have rarely been asked to do more with less than is demanded of them today. Their plight has brought back to my memory that many years ago, a pastor from North Carolina, Stephen M. Crotts, told this story – one that I’ve kept in my files, and in my heart, ever since. He said:
I started my ministry in Charlotte County, Virginia. And there was a deacon in the church there named Harvey Milton who ran a seed and feed store in Drakes Branch. Harvey and his wife Margaret sort of adopted me and helped me along during those first tentative years of the ministry.
I remember one day after I’d been there nearly three years. I was struggling with trying to do too much, trying to keep everybody happy, trying to fix all the hurts.
I stopped by to see Harvey at his business and found him hunched over the back door replacing a broken hinge.
“What are you doing?” I politely inquired.
“Well, Stephen,” Harvey intoned, “there are four kinds of broken things in this world. There are those things that are broken that if you just leave them alone they’ll fix themselves. Then there are those things that are broken that are none of my business. It’s up to somebody else to fix it. Then there are those things that are broken that only God can fix. And finally, there are those things that are broken that can be fixed and it’s my job to do it. And this door is one of them. And that’s what I’m doing . . . fixing this door.”
Stephen finished by saying this: “When urgent calls, opportunities, pressure, criticism and thoughts of all I could be doing come, those words help me sort my duty.”
Perhaps those words will help you too.
The First Time
April 3, 2018
I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday the first time I had to determine a student was not eligible under rules of the Michigan High School Athletic Association.
At that singular moment, it did not matter that I had been able to advise a dozen previous callers that the students they were inquiring about were eligible under the rules. All I could see in my mind’s eye was this one student who would not be able to participate as a full-fledged member of a team in a sport he enjoyed.
I assumed, as I have in almost every case since, that this was a “good kid,” and one who needed sports more than sports needed him.
But the facts made him ineligible and there were no compelling reasons to look beyond the facts. I knew it would be hard on the student to miss a season, but I also knew this was not in any sense an “undue hardship.” I could see that if the rule was not enforced in this case, I would be undermining its enforcement in other cases, and effectively changing the rule.
And I recognized that I did not have the authority to change a rule which the MHSAA Representative Council and each member school’s board of education had adopted to bring consistency and control to competitive athletics.
Many years have passed, and I’ve had to consider the eligibility of countless students to represent their schools on athletic teams. But I still see each situation as an individual student, balancing his or her individual needs and desires against the need to protect the integrity of the rules and the desire to promote competitive equity within the program.