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In An Instant

August 4, 2015

The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.

My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.

Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.

What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.

A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.

I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.

We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.

A Shift

April 10, 2018

The disease of youth sports generally – observed in premature sports specialization and the commercialization of kids’ games by both local entrepreneurs and corporate giants – is infecting school-based sports, especially basketball.

We see it in transfers by starters and dropouts among reserves.

We see it in short benches for JV and varsity games and empty gyms.

There is no shame in identifying our weak spots; it’s the only way to start fixing them.

And heavens! NCAA men’s basketball is being investigated by the FBI. Players are being ruled ineligible. Coaches are being fired. Others are being arrested.

School-based basketball is beautiful by comparison! But we can and must be better. And that can only begin to happen by facing up to our shortcomings.

The clock is ticking on the life of school-based basketball, and only a change in emphasis – a cultural shift – may save what arguably has been the most historically important sport in our schools. A shift ... 

Away from all-star games for a few graduating seniors and toward junior high/middle school programs open to all kids.

  • Away from national events and toward city, county and conference rivalries.

  • Away from “elite” travel teams and toward local K-6 development programs operated by schools.

  • Away from creeping commercialism and blatant professionalism and toward a re-commitment to amateurism.

  • Away from gamesmanship and toward sportsmanship as a precursor to citizenship.

  • Away from running up the score – a lot – and toward playing every kid – a lot.

The leaders and lovers of school-based basketball must resist the slippery slope and advocate for the cultural shift. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon or rocket scientist to save school-based basketball; but it does take courage and persistence.