Planning & Doing
January 31, 2012
One of the MHSAA’s counterpart organizations in another state recently asked to see the business plans of other statewide high school associations. Some of the states supplied their detailed budgets, but most had nothing to offer.
Of course, a budget is a much different thing than a business plan. A budget is built more on past performance, while a business plan looks more to the potential of future problems and opportunities. A business plan is much more than numbers.
Since 2007 we’ve been using a “Mission Action Plan” (MAP) at the MHSAA. It was developed to deal with the opportunities and obstacles of three powerful trends: (1) growth of non-school youth sports programs; (2) expansion of educational alternatives to traditional neighborhood schools; and (3) proliferating technology.
While not a typical business plan or a classic “strategic plan,” the “MAP” has become increasingly useful to point the way for the MHSAA both in terms of program and finance. The MAP states a single “Overarching Purpose;” it identifies four “Highest Priority Goals;” and it lists four multi-faceted “Current Strategic Emphases,” many of which have quantifiable performance targets, including financial goals.
Next to each Current Strategic Emphasis are two boxes. The first is checked if we’ve gotten started, and the second is checked when we’ve completed the task or are operating at the level we had established as our goal. At this point, every MAP strategy has been launched, but only a portion have earned the second checkmark.
Quite efficiently, the MAP keeps us both strategic and businesslike without the formality of purer forms of strategic or business plans.
The Limitation of Rules – Part 1
September 2, 2016
From the age of 10 to 20, my position as a baseball player was catcher. Sometime during that decade I was taught to return the ball to the pitcher with authority, with a snap throw from my ear, targeting the glove-side shoulder of the pitcher.
I caught every inning of every game, including doubleheaders. In those years, there was less concern than today for protecting the arms of pitchers, and there was no thought given to the throwing arms of catchers.
Today, the shoulder of my throwing arm is shot; I cannot throw a ball overhand with any force.
But here’s the thing. I didn’t ruin my throwing arm in youth and school baseball; I wrecked it as an adult doing silly things with a tennis ball on the beach with my teenage son. We had a blast for a summer afternoon, and I’ve paid for it the rest of my life.
The point of this brief baseball bio is to demonstrate an example of the limitations of rules.
We can identify dozens of risks to student-athletes and we can promulgate an equal number of rules to help them avoid injuries in our programs; but we cannot protect them against a lack of common sense in our programs or accidents in other aspects of their lives.
Even if we implement new rules to limit the number of pitches by a player, what good is that if, after reaching the limit, the pitcher and catcher switch positions? Do we need a rule to address that coaching decision too?
Do we need rules that prohibit large students from practicing against small, or experienced players from competing against inexperienced? How would we ever monitor or enforce such rules? Where do rules leave off and common sense take over?
Even if we put players in bubble wrap for sports, what do we do about their decisions away from sports, perhaps in vehicles, with their friends and their cell phones? Where do laws and rules stop, and personal responsibility start?