Plan B Planning

July 23, 2015

The odds of a boy having a career as a professional athlete are very small; and for a girl, the odds are infinitesimal. But that doesn’t make the pursuit of such a goal ridiculous.
First, there are good, healthy destinations shy of that goal that result in meaningful, satisfying sports-related careers ... coaching, athletic administration, sports broadcasting, sports medicine, officiating, for examples.
Second, dedication to such a goal can develop disciplines and habits that lead to a more productive life, regardless of the ultimate career path.
How ridiculous would it be in 1969 for a Canadian boy of nine to set the goal of becoming an astronaut? Canada didn’t even have a space program!
But that’s what Chris Hadfield did, and he discovered the goal provided direction to his life that was lacking before. He had a new lens for viewing life and his place in it.
In An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth (Little, Brown and Company, 2013), Colonel Hadfield writes: “Throughout all this I never felt that I’d be a failure in life if I didn’t get to space. Since the odds of becoming an astronaut were nonexistent, I knew it would be pretty silly to hang my sense of self-worth on it. My attitude was more, ‘It’s probably not going to happen, but I would do things that keep me moving in the right direction, just in case – and I should be sure those things interest me, so that whatever happens, I’m happy.’ ”
There is a commercial airing on television for an international real estate company that tells us to “dream with our eyes open.” That is good advice for youngsters who dream of playing sports at any higher level. Even if the dream is not realized – and it most likely will not be – the dream might help to produce life skills for a rewarding “Plan B.”

It’s Change, Not Status

January 5, 2016

When I see a professional sports team install a scoreboard that is more expensive than the total of the interscholastic athletic budgets of the two dozen high schools closest to that stadium, I gripe.

When I see a half-dozen medical professionals scamper out to attend to an injured college football player, and then watch a local high school junior varsity soccer game where no medical professional is present, I grieve.

But in spite of these dispiriting moments, I never wish that my life’s work had been at those higher levels. Long ago I was impressed by the statement that we should measure impact by change, not by status.

It is at the school sports level, much more than at so-called higher levels, that lives are changed. No glitz. No glamour. Just huge results, with limited resources.