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.”
Baloney
January 27, 2015
When I was in high school and college I worked a different job each summer, usually looking for hard labor that would help prepare my body for the next football season, and each time confirming that it would not be my choice for lifetime employment. One summer I worked at a lumber yard and paper mill complex along the banks of the Wisconsin River.
Every day I ate lunch with the men who had made this their life’s work; and I grew in ways both positive and negative as I listened to their conversations and tales. We all brought our own lunch pails.
One day, one of the more veteran employees opened his lunchbox and flew into a rage. “I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “Baloney again! I hate baloney.”
Trying to calm him down, another worker said, “If you hate baloney so much, just ask your wife to make you something else.”
To which the complainer replied, “That won’t work. I make my own lunches,” which resulted in an uproar of laughter from the rest of us.
I thought of this incident recently as I was preparing to meet with constituents about the rules they most love to hate: policies relating to coach and player contact out of season. Those are our most criticized rules.
But it occurs to me, if we don’t like the sandwich we’re eating – out-of-season coaching rules – we should remember: we made them ourselves, and we can change them. In fact, no one is in a better position to do so than we are. And no one has a greater duty to do so than we have, if we really are in need of a new recipe.