Out-Punting Our Coverage

March 19, 2013

Any traveler to the Atlantic coast of any Central American country will witness firsthand the arrogance of the human race.

Strewn along almost every shore is the waste of nations outliving their means.  Plastic in all shapes and colors, from products of all types – bottles, toys, sandals, tools.

Island nations to the east, unable to cope with the volume of their waste, cast it off covertly under cover of night.  Oceangoing vessels large and small heave it overboard.

My wife puts it this way:  “We’ve gotten ahead of ourselves.”  Humans have fantastic abilities to create, but we do so without conscience, without caring enough about consequences.

This clearly applies to the world’s waste problem – from cast-off containers to used cars to computers made obsolete in a matter of months.  We keep producing more and more, without plans for the waste of producing new products or the waste created by making existing things obsolete.

In the Pacific Ocean, a mass of trash the size of Texas is circulating as if there were a drain.  But there isn’t one.  No easy answer to flush human waste – the excrement of our greed – to some other place where it will do no harm.

In Chinese cities today the air, water and land are toxic – much as it was in developing US cities around 1900 – as China takes its turn to poison its people in the name of progress.

That we can do something doesn’t mean we should do it.  In sports terms, the human race has out-punted its coverage, and the consequences are far more dire than a punt return for a touchdown.

Our Place in the Sun

August 22, 2017

Today’s blog was written by MHSAA Website and Publications Coordinator Rob Kaminski

Millions of people across the country yesterday were mesmerized and fascinated by a once-in-a-lifetime show staged by the solar system: a total solar eclipse, which spanned the contiguous United States from Oregon to South Carolina. 

The “Great American Eclipse” (because everything needs a title these days) was preceded by countless hours of coverage to prep enthusiasts on a variety of topics: the best places in which to view “totality;” the time frame in which the phenomenon would occur; the manner in which to view the orbs without damaging retinas; and, for the more scientifically inclined, detailed explanations as to the cause of the event.

It is somewhat ironic that this temporary traveling blackout began in the Pacific Northwest where people often yearn for even a glimpse of the sun over periods of time, and ended off the coast of South Carolina where residents have endured more than their share of weather disasters and a day of total sun would have been greatly preferred. At widespread locations in between, how many citizens beg for just a little more sunshine each day when the clock runs out on Daylight Saving Time? 

The attraction to Monday’s event, of course, was its rarity. Its peculiarity. Its deviation from the norm. The last time a total solar eclipse could be seen anywhere in the United States was 1979, and the last time it went coast to coast was 99 years ago. That was the hook. It was darkness’s day in the sun.

Another MHSAA football season kicks off around the state Friday just clear from the shadows of Monday’s historic, but fleeting, happening. The school sports spotlight shines brightest on fall Friday nights and has for decades, not only in Michigan, but also from shore to shore across the country. It is pep rallies and parades; pizza parlors and burger joints; neighborhood caravans and tailgates; perhaps even a Friday cross country meet or volleyball match, all leading up to the football game, for many years the only game in town.

Now, as college football continues its attempt to upset the natural balance and create its own eclipse, it is our hope that high school fans from state to state will consider this movement a fleeting attention grab. It is our hope that the people who have fueled our product over the course of time will turn their heads and focus on the brightest Friday night stars in their own back yards.