Living With Change

December 1, 2017

One of the odd and irksome scenes I observe occurs when a relative newcomer to an enterprise lectures more seasoned veterans about change. About how change is all around us, and inevitable. About how we must embrace it and keep pace with it.

All that is true, of course; and no one knows more about that than the veteran being subjected to the newcomer’s condescension.

No one “gets it” better than those who have lived and worked through it. Short-timers can’t claim superiority on a subject they’ve only read or heard about.

Who has the deeper appreciation of change in our enterprise? The person who started working before the Internet, or after? Before social media, or after?

Who has keener knowledge of change in youth sports? The person in this work before, or after, the Amateur Athletic Union changed its focus from international competition and the Olympics to youth sports?

Who sees change more profoundly? The one who launched a career before the advent of commercially-driven sports specialization, or the one who has only seen the youth sports landscape as it exists today?

Who can better evaluate the shifting sands: newcomers or the ones who labored before colleges televised on any other day but Saturday and the pros televised on any other day but Sunday (and Thanksgiving)?

Where newcomers see things as they are, veterans can see things that have changed. They can be more aware of change, and more appreciative of its pros and cons. They didn’t merely inherit change, they lived it.

Vern Norris

February 20, 2018

For more than two decades, I’ve kept a photograph of Vern Norris on my office desk. I’ve intended this to be a daily reminder that much of what we are able to do now is due at least in part to people who have come before us.

Vern died recently at the age of 89, nearly 32 years after his retirement, having served on the MHSAA staff for 23 years, including as executive director from 1978 to 1986. He had been in declining health during the past year, but not declining spirit. Many people remember Vern as one who would be willing to help almost anyone at any time.

When, in Kansas City, I read his retirement announcement early in 1986, I sent him a congratulatory note. He responded with a personal call during which he asked of my interest in the job. Given my situation at the time – not on staff, not in the state and not in a school or sports administration – this seemed like a wild pitch. But he encouraged me to think about it and, well, the rest is history.

When I leave this job that I have now held and mostly loved for nearly 32 years so far, I intend to follow Vern’s lead. His was a most graceful exit. We spent only five days together in the MHSAA office; and while his advice since then has been rare, his support has always been well done.

I will miss seeing him at this winter’s tournaments and at the Officials Banquet May 5, an event that he began in his first year as MHSAA executive director, an event where we will honor another of Michigan’s officiating leaders with the “Vern L. Norris Award.”