Secret Weapon
October 25, 2016
The rapid rate of turnover in the ranks of local school sports leadership might suggest a program that is in disarray and has lost its way. But that’s not the case most of the time in most of our schools, which operate with a North Star sense of direction and regular recall of the core values of educational athletics. This is because school sports has a secret weapon.
In schools across this state there are coaches and administrators whose lifetime profession and passion has been school sports. People who chose to stick with sports when there were other opportunities in education with more regular, less demanding hours. People who chose to stay at the secondary school level when there were opportunities at higher levels. These folks are sold out for school sports, and they are the secret weapon of school sports.
For these people, school sports has been the life-affirming, life-shaping, sometimes even life-saving business of educational athletics.
For these people, school sports has been a calling, nearly a mission, not quite a crusade.
For these people, everything they do is connected, is intentional, is purposeful.
When these people conduct a coach or parent meeting, or a pep assembly or a postseason awards night, they know why they are doing so.
When these people coordinate homecoming week festivities or create their school’s student-athlete advisory council or its Hall of Fame, they know why they are doing so.
It’s because they know interscholastic athletic programs are good for students, schools and society in ways that other youth sports programs can’t come close to matching.
The why of their work guides them and drives them. It gives meaning and motivation to their days. It assures our success.
Tools of Thought
July 13, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.