Secret Sauce
April 19, 2016
The MHSAA has appointed a task force to meet throughout 2016 to develop strategies to promote multi-sport participation by student-athletes. In that spirit I have departed from tradition and will be identifying current students by name in this space, approximately once each month, who are the Superstars of Multi-Sport Participation.
Last month (March 11) it was Plainwell High School senior Jessica Nyberg. This month’s “Superstar” is Saugatuck High School junior Blake Dunn, who is on course to earn 16 high school letters ... four years of four sports.
My first thought was that maybe four sports each school year is too many and might get in the way of academics. But Blake is carrying a 3.95 GPA so far; so he appears to have that priority in the right place.
My second thought was that he must be an abnormally large and gifted physical specimen. But no, Blake is a pretty normal 5-11, 180-pounder. It’s hard work that people have described as his secret sauce.
My third thought is that Blake is fortunate to have coaches who will accommodate his passions and be flexible with practice demands so that he can be a part of two teams at the same time during the spring and also during the inevitable overlap of seasons from fall to winter and winter to spring.
School sports is a team sport. It’s adults working together to allow students to learn and grow in a variety of activities. It’s placing adolescents’ needs above adults’ desires, which might be the secret sauce in promoting multi-sport participation.
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.