Participant Celebrations
March 13, 2012
I was born and raised in Wisconsin; and I hope that I’m forgiven for cheering for our Lions in all but two games each year – when they play the Green Bay Packers. I just can’t shake that long loyalty.
I’m a lifelong Packer fan, one who was actually present when Don Chandler’s disputed field goal beat the Baltimore Colts (that’s right, Baltimore) on a day when running back Tom Matte was pressed into action as the Colts’ quarterback.
I was also present when Bart Starr followed Jerry Kramer’s block on the Cowboys’ Jethro Pugh to win the 1967 “Ice Bowl” in 17-below-zero weather in Green Bay.
For all these reasons and more, I’ve loved the “Lambeau Leap” which celebrates Packer touchdowns.
But, I don’t want such acts in high school sports.
The national high school rule makers have done a terrific job of controlling participant celebrations in high school sports.
Pick any sport: High school athletes will be the best behaved athletes on any level of the sport. It’s one of our trademarks. Our brand. And something we can be proud of.
(We do have one participant conduct problem, but that’s for next time.)
Destiny
January 9, 2018
Editor's Note: This blog originally was posted May 01, 2012, and the timeless message is worth another read.
A University of Wisconsin football player from my hometown years ago was hit from behind in the closing minutes of spring football practice. It caused an injury that required surgery. That caused him to miss the next fall’s football season; and to protect him from further injury, he was allowed to skip the following spring’s football practice and to work out with the Badgers baseball team.
He ended up leading the Big Ten Conference in hitting, and he eventually received the largest signing contract in the history of professional baseball, becoming the first “Bonus Baby” for Gene Autry’s Los Angeles Angels.
“If not for that injury in football,” he once told an audience, “caused by an unskilled walk-on in the last five minutes of the last spring football practice, I would never have played college baseball. I would never have played Major League Baseball for 11 seasons.
“You never know,” he said, “when you are five minutes from your destiny.”