Hall of Fame Heritage
April 29, 2014
Here are two little known facts. The chair of the first-ever high school level swimming & diving rules committee was Allen W. Bush, the MHSAA’s second full-time executive director. And yours truly, the MHSAA’s fourth full-time executive director, was the editor of the committee’s first rule book published by the National Federation of State High School Associations (NFHS).
This connection to the sport of swimming & diving early in my career has caused me to keep track of some of the sport’s key personnel, including Dave Robertson (IL), Dennis McGinly (PA), Dick Hannula (WA) and Glenn Kaye (FL) who all served on the first NFHS committee and are now in the National Interscholastic Swimming Coaches Association (NISCA) Hall of Fame.
Last month in Austin, Texas, NISCA inducted Ann Arbor-Pioneer’s legendary coach Dennis Hill into its Hall of Fame. Dennis coached boys swimming & diving for 45 years and girls swimming & diving for 38 years at Pioneer. He did so with both grace and great success, and it saddens me to learn that this gentleman has announced his well-deserved retirement.
Dennis was preceded into NISCA’s Hall of Fame by Michigan coaches G. Robert Mowerson (1975-Battle Creek), Willard Cooley (1980-Jackson), C. William Brandell (1984-Battle Creek-Lakeview), William Reaume (1988-Detroit-Denby), William Laury (1989-Detroit-Cody), Michael Lane (1998-Bloomfield Hills-Andover), and Richard Edwards (2010-Lansing-Eastern).
It’s people like these who have made and maintained Michigan’s excellent reputation among school-based swimming & diving programs across the US, overcoming the early efforts of the first wet-behind-the-ears rule book editor.
Sounds of Silence
April 12, 2015
I write in the early morning hours for the same reason birds sing then – it’s quiet. Birds can hear their voices, and I can hear my thoughts.
It is during the uncontested moments of the day that I can try out ideas – test them on paper. Yes, on paper! My most creative and productive process still employs a legal pad, a pencil and an eraser. The physical process of writing the words, looking at them, and often erasing what doesn’t make sense to my mind or sound right to my ear as I read it aloud.
The task of written communication has become more difficult during the four decades I’ve been engaged in this enterprise. While the work has become more complex and requires more nuanced discussion, the space available for careful comment has been reduced. Pretending cleverness or profundity, texts and tweets often do more harm than good to promote creative and productive discourse.
I am rarely provided the luxury of long-form journalism in this modern age. Even a “feature” article in a prestigious national professional journal is expected to be less than 1,500 words.
Modern scribes must boil down complicated matters to brief blogs like this one, hoping in a few short paragraphs to share an insight worth reading and to suggest a response worth doing.
The insight here? Silence is golden.
The suggested response? Seek a solitary space to describe and defend what it is that you hear in that silence.