The Scholar-Athlete Profile

February 11, 2014

We are well aware that the multi-sport athlete is not as common today as a decade or two ago, but the species is far from extinct. And for the foreseeable future, the policies and procedures of educational athletics will be tailored much more to their needs than to the single-sport specialist.
There were 1,701 applications for MHSAA Scholar-Athlete Awards this year. Of the 120 finalists, 75 are three-sport participants. The average sport participation rate of the 1,701 applicants is 2.16 sports, while the 120 finalists average 2.70 sports.
All 1,701 applicants met the minimum required 3.50 grade point average during their busy lives as student-athletes and all-around student leaders. All found the time to complete the required 500-word essay on the importance of sportsmanship in educational athletics.
Thirty-two of the 120 finalists have been judged by a statewide committee to receive $1,000 scholarships underwritten by Farm Bureau Insurance. This is the 25th year of the MHSAA’s partnership in this program with Farm Bureau, a program that emphasizes the importance of well-rounded students who excel in the classroom.
These 32 students are a justifiable point of pride for their schools and families. All 1,701 are representative of our goals at the MHSAA. For more on the Scholar-Athlete program click here.

Ali

July 8, 2016

My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.

Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.

We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.

We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.

After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.

We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.

We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.

We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.

Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.

Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.