It’s a Blizzard

March 18, 2015

Like the good people in Boston and other eastern cities and towns who couldn’t find anywhere to put all the snow they were getting this past winter, those in charge of school sports can’t find anywhere to put all the advice and expertise pouring down on us. We are well beyond the tipping point between too little and too much information regarding concussions.

In one stack before me are different descriptions of concussion signs and symptoms. I could go with a list as short as five symptoms or as long as 15.

In a second stack before me are different sideline detection solutions – tests that take 20 seconds to more than 20 minutes, some that require annual preliminary testing and others that do not.

In a third stack are a variety of return-to-play or return-to-learn protocols, ranging from a half-dozen steps to more than twice that number.

When I read that the National Football League, with all of its resources, was “overwhelmed by all of the expert opinion right now,” I was not comforted.
We have to cut through the clutter and provide our constituents clear and concise recommendations for the efficient education of coaches, student-athletes, parents and others; for electronic sideline detection solutions that are not only quick and effective in assessing injuries but also provide immediate reports and permanent records of concussions; and for protocols that place return to play well behind return to practice and further behind return to learn.

Making a Statement

June 17, 2015

Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.

With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”

The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...

  • We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.

  • We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.

  • We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.

  • And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.

The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.