Fresh Air
June 30, 2014
On well over 300 of every 365 days each year I take a brisk early morning walk. One of the many things I’ve noticed over the years is how the smell of the exhaust of even a single passing automobile will stale the fresh air for several minutes after the vehicle is out of sight.
I’ve often thought there was a metaphor here that I could use in commenting on school sports; and my recent reading of Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief gave shape to that thought when the novel’s central character said:
“. . . when we came to intersections, we would have to stop and then the blue whiteness of the exhaust would overtake us. We could see it and smell it. We thought we had left it behind us somewhere back on the road, but when we slowed down, it seemed to overtake and surround us.”
What we have in school sports that none of the so-called more “prestigious” brands of sports offer is fresh air. Purity. Wholesomeness.
This is our trump card, our ace-in-the-hole.
We lack the resources to compete on a marketing or promotional level with college and professional sports; and we look foolish and waste resources when we try.
But when we focus on local rivalries between nearby opponents – complete with pep bands and marching bands, fully-clad cheerleaders, pep assemblies, letter jackets and Homecoming parades and dances – we play to our strength. We’re local, amateur and just a touch corny. Charming is a better word.
As we travel in this direction, the air is clean and fresh. As we slow or even stop at the intersection of other choices, we will smell the foulness in the air and know immediately that the only course for educational athletics is the road we’re already on.
My Privilege
June 29, 2018
The National Federation of State High School Associations is at this moment conducting its 99th Annual Summer Meeting in Chicago, the city where the organization was born almost a century ago.
For all but seven months of the past 62 of these 99 years, there has been a John Roberts as one of the NFHS member state association executives – my dad in Wisconsin for nearly 30 years, and I in Michigan for 32.
I attended my first NFHS Summer Meeting when I was eight years old. Five of us in an un-air-conditioned family sedan drove nearly the full length of US Highway 41 from Wisconsin to Miami Beach at the southern tip of Florida.
My younger sister learned to swim there. My older sister found a boyfriend there. And I guess I discovered my life’s work there.
A life’s work from which I will retire this summer.
Including those on the job today, there have been just 324 individuals who have ever served as full-time chief executives of the NFHS member high school associations. Just 324 who appreciate the pressures and the opportunities of this work the way my dad and I have.
These jobs are precious gifts and a rich blessing ... unusually rare opportunities to serve and influence students, schools and society.
For years I’ve concluded most of my correspondence with the phrase, “It’s a privilege to serve you.” I’ve meant it.