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Patience

January 20, 2015

I found it amazing that an important "test" match in cricket last month between India and Australia was scheduled for three days but could last five days, or might end after two. This flexible scheduling is just part of the game.
On one day of that match, Australia was able to bat all morning, declare a lunch break, and then keep batting most of the afternoon before India ever had an opportunity to go on offense. When they finally did, India was already behind 400 and something to zero.
It was equally intriguing to watch the fastest two of the 117 yachts entered in the 70th Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race finish the more than 628-nautical mile course within 48 minutes of each other, but 11 hours before the third place yacht. And, two days before the last of the 103 finishers. 
I decided that Australian sports fans must have a different definition of drama, a lot more patience for events of long duration, and much more tolerance for events of indefinite length than we do in the USA. Perhaps it is in the DNA of Australians to be patient ... for they are certainly among the most polite populations I've encountered.
Perhaps all of this is inherent in the character of a country that is almost as large as the USA’s first 48 states but has only seven percent of the USA’s population. In fact, China's population increases each year by more people than the total population of Australia ... which may have something to do with 36 people being killed during a human stampede in Shanghai this past New Year’s Eve.

A Walk in the Woods

July 3, 2018

(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on July 30, 2010)


My wife and I were on a long walk through the woods and back roads of west Michigan this summer when she remarked, “We’re not lost; but we don’t know where we are.”

We knew how to get back to our car, but we didn’t know the direction we were headed. “We’re not lost,” I mused; “but we don’t know where we are.”

That’s an apt description for interscholastic athletics. We could back-track on the path to the origins of this journey, so we’re really not lost. But I don’t know anyone who really knows where we are, which direction we might be headed.

There are few who have viewed interscholastic athletics from more angles than I; but I’m not any clearer about the future than the newest coach or most casual fan. I’ve looked at high school sports as a coach, and as the son of a coach. I’ve been involved as a player, and as the parent of two players. I’m the son of a state leader and the protégé of a national leader. I’ve been an administrator at the state and national levels. I’ve read the old histories and handbooks, and I’ve talked at length with key leaders of the past. But I don’t know where we’re headed.

Where does this path lead that relaxes or eliminates out-of-season practice and competition restrictions for athletes and their coaches? From the repeated complaints of coaches and administrators, it’s evident that path was a bad choice; but how now to find our way back? We’ve taken a few steps back, but we know it was downhill to this point and a tough uphill climb back.

Where, if ever, is the end of this path that leads to more and more commercialization of sports? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states relax or eliminate amateur and awards rules?

Where are the sporting goods manufacturers and street agents taking high school basketball? Will the game that has captured hearts and minds for generations continue its charm when the pervasive corruption of college basketball is exposed or it infects high school heroes beyond healing?

When, if ever, will the government’s thirst to regulate sports be quenched? Where, if ever, will the requests end for extra protections and privileges for special groups?

When, if ever, will seasons be long enough, travel far enough and the stakes high enough to satisfy promoters? Where are we being taken as high school associations in other states take down the barricades placed on those paths by the pioneers of our programs?

Eventually, on our walk through the woods, my wife and I determined it was time to turn around and head back toward our starting point. We didn’t think we could go any further ahead and still make our way back. We knew we didn’t have the power of mind to remember more turns. We ran out of memory before we ran out of energy.

I worry that some of those who are pushing the limits of high school athletics have forgotten where they parked the car. And having forgotten this, they wander in vain through the woods, trying this turn and that.

They’ve run out of memory, but not energy; and sadly, they drag us along, deceiving us and perhaps themselves that it’s only around the next corner or over the next hill that we will see clearly again or reach our goal.

(Note: This was first published in the MHSAA’s August 1995 Bulletin and in 2000 was included in the book Raising Expectations, which is now a part of the MHSAA Library.)