The Long View

May 8, 2012

 “. . . when you start fretting the day-to-day, you lose track of the long view,” says the protagonist in Charles Frazier’s latest novel Nightwoods.

It’s easy to do.  Easy to get tied up in daily concerns and controversies that cloud our ability to concentrate on long-term goals and objectives and the big themes that should be apparent in our daily activities.

Day-to-day fretting causes heartburn for investors who ignore their long-term investment strategies and goals.  It sidetracks businesses which lose track of long-term goals for the sake of boosting a quarterly earnings report.  It affects politicians who, while keeping an eye on polls, take their eye off their principles.  It’s probably taking a toll on school administrators who feel compelled to improve students’ test scores more than to infuse students with a passion to be lifelong learners.

I’m aware of some in our work who are able to refocus on the long view by getting away from the daily grind; but I know others who find the best way to refocus on the meaning and purpose of our work is to go to an event.  Just be a spectator where you’re not on duty, not responsible for anything.  To observe the action and emotion and school/community spirit.  To see a coach counsel a dejected player.  To watch an official make a tough call with perfect mechanics and people skills.

The day-to-day fretting may not disappear, but it gets placed in a much better perspective.  The long view.

Attitude Adjustment

January 12, 2016

As an everyday, every hour observer of what’s happening to school sports and within school sports, I can get into a negative rut.

But if I step back, and then step out to a local school event – especially at the subvarsity level – my attitude changes. This is where I get a “fix.” This is where I discover the antidote for creeping cynicism.

Here I see coaches teaching, more than screaming. Here is where I watch an official not only make a call but explain it to the participant. Here is where I see athletes smile. And I do too.

Many years ago my son told me how much more he liked coaching at the middle school level than at the high school level. At the younger level, appreciative parents saw him as the one tapping into new talents. At the higher level, overbearing parents said he was missing or misusing their child’s talent.

The subvarsity level – the arena of discovery and development – is underappreciated. In fact, it is often where the best of what we call “educational athletics” occurs.