Perspective
July 2, 2013
During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Nov. 2, 2010.
Each summer I put together a list of all the problems we’re addressing and all the projects we know we’ll be working on through the MHSAA during the year ahead. It’s always a long list, and accomplishing just a few items would make any year a good year.
So, this requires that we try to decide between all that we might do and all that we must do. And here’s a reminder of one thing we must do.
When I ask school and community groups with whom I’m speaking about what they think the problems are in school sports, the most popular responses from these constituents are (1) too little funding, and (2) too many misdirected parents; or sometimes that order is reversed: over-involved parents and under-funded programs.
I like to caution people that in some situations, our students suffer from too little adult engagement in their lives and that, almost everywhere, interscholastic athletics benefit greatly from the time and energy parents and other adults volunteer to help local programs operate. But I get the point of what I’m hearing.
These and other responses I hear – serious as these cited problems can be – may merely be symptoms of the single, fundamental issue that’s at the heart of all the others. That’s perspective.
- Too little money for schools and sports?
Perspective – spending money on less essential things. - Pressure-packed parents?
Perspective – people focusing on adults’ desires more than students’ needs. - Poor sportsmanship?
Perspective – forgetting or never learning the pure purpose of educational athletics. - Too much specialization? Too much year-round competition?
Perspective again. - Too much talk of college athletic scholarships?
Perspective once again.
In essence, almost all issues arise from matters of perspective. At their root, almost all problems are problems of perspective.
What can we do about this?
I don’t have the perfect prescription; but one thing is certain: we can’t relegate this to an afterthought. We cannot hope to make time to address this problem each day; we must plan to make time for it each day.
We need to model a positive perspective. Point to it when we see it. Explain it. Reward it.
It can’t be left to others. We are the guardians of proper perspective. It’s Job 1.
Singing Spectators
December 6, 2013
Unlike many of my counterparts who are engaged in the administration of statewide high school athletic associations, I do not seek in my free time to attend other athletic events as a spectator. Nevertheless, more by accident than design, I’ve had an opportunity to see some of the biggest events and most iconic stadia in the United States.
But none of these events or venues holds a candle to the Boca Juniors’ 2-1 victory over Tigre at La Bombonera (“the chocolate box”) in Buenos Aires last month. It was merely a regular-season event between two nearby opponents – nothing special on the world’s soccer schedule. But it was amazing.
We had been warned that the neighborhood was unsafe and the 80,000 members of the Boca Juniors Athletic Club were savage about acquiring tickets for the ancient stadium’s intimate 50,000 seats; and that they were raucous, rowdy spectators. But in the absence of alcohol sales in the stadium and within a five-block radius of the stadium and in the presence of nonstop, nearly choreographed song and gesture – starting 15 minutes before the game until even longer after – this became one of the most enjoyable athletic events I’ve ever attended. Never have I observed a louder or more melodious crowd of spectators.
Except for a halftime rest, the crowd sang without letup, and with a bit more volume and energy for a direct or corner kick. The crowd sang when a home team defender deflected the ball into his own goal early in the first half. It sang louder when the home team scored the tying goal in the 39th minute of the second half. It sang even louder when the home team broke the tie in extra time. And the singing continued as the crowd descended the ancient stadium’s stairwells to the street after the match.
I was surprised to conclude that a professional football match in South America was a more pleasant experience than a professional football game in North America. It had nothing to do with the shape of the ball; it had everything to do with the condition of the crowd – the absence of alcohol and the presence of song.