Fundamentals vs. Fads
July 9, 2013
During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Aug. 9, 2011.
While examining some ancient fabrics at the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo, Norway, my wife explained to me the “warp and weft” of weaving – how the vertical fibers are the warp and the horizontal fibers are the weft.
What intrigued me about the ancient remnants was that the vertical fibers of wool had survived the centuries so much better than the left-to-right-fibers of linen and silk. I was informed that the vertical fibers (the warp) gave the fabric its durability, while the horizontal fibers (the weft) provided the design. And the strength lasted long after the color had faded.
My vacationing mind then jumped quickly across the ocean and centuries to my working preoccupation with the essentials of school-based sports. I reflected on how certain principles on which educational athletics are based have withstood challenge after challenge over time, even as some of the earlier features of school sports have faded.
This travel memory will serve as a reminder to me to focus on the fundamentals – on those core values of school sports that are essential and allow us to claim that the programs are educational – and to worry less about the superficial features that will inevitably change with the trends and fads over the years. Determining which is which – distinguishing fundamentals from fads – is one of the challenges the leaders of school sports must face.
A Walk in the Woods
July 3, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on July 30, 2010)
My wife and I were on a long walk through the woods and back roads of west Michigan this summer when she remarked, “We’re not lost; but we don’t know where we are.”
We knew how to get back to our car, but we didn’t know the direction we were headed. “We’re not lost,” I mused; “but we don’t know where we are.”
That’s an apt description for interscholastic athletics. We could back-track on the path to the origins of this journey, so we’re really not lost. But I don’t know anyone who really knows where we are, which direction we might be headed.
There are few who have viewed interscholastic athletics from more angles than I; but I’m not any clearer about the future than the newest coach or most casual fan. I’ve looked at high school sports as a coach, and as the son of a coach. I’ve been involved as a player, and as the parent of two players. I’m the son of a state leader and the protégé of a national leader. I’ve been an administrator at the state and national levels. I’ve read the old histories and handbooks, and I’ve talked at length with key leaders of the past. But I don’t know where we’re headed.
Where does this path lead that relaxes or eliminates out-of-season practice and competition restrictions for athletes and their coaches? From the repeated complaints of coaches and administrators, it’s evident that path was a bad choice; but how now to find our way back? We’ve taken a few steps back, but we know it was downhill to this point and a tough uphill climb back.
Where, if ever, is the end of this path that leads to more and more commercialization of sports? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states relax or eliminate amateur and awards rules?
Where are the sporting goods manufacturers and street agents taking high school basketball? Will the game that has captured hearts and minds for generations continue its charm when the pervasive corruption of college basketball is exposed or it infects high school heroes beyond healing?
When, if ever, will the government’s thirst to regulate sports be quenched? Where, if ever, will the requests end for extra protections and privileges for special groups?
When, if ever, will seasons be long enough, travel far enough and the stakes high enough to satisfy promoters? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states take down the barricades placed on those paths by the pioneers of our programs?
Eventually, on our walk through the woods, my wife and I determined it was time to turn around and head back toward our starting point. We didn’t think we could go any further ahead and still make our way back. We knew we didn’t have the power of mind to remember more turns. We ran out of memory before we ran out of energy.
I worry that some of those who are pushing the limits of high school athletics have forgotten where they parked the car. And having forgotten this, they wander in vain through the woods, trying this turn and that.
They’ve run out of memory, but not energy; and sadly, they drag us along, deceiving us and perhaps themselves that it’s only around the next corner or over the next hill that we will see clearly again or reach our goal.
(Note: This was first published in the MHSAA’s August 1995 Bulletin and in 2000 was included in the book Raising Expectations, which is now a part of the MHSAA Library.)