A Service Ace
October 18, 2011
I don’t write much about high school tennis, but I probably should.
It’s a terrific “lifetime” sport. It’s a sport we can play into our “golden years;” and, without officials to make the calls, it also has the potential to teach lifetime values.
But no sport we administer gives us more headaches. Too often we encounter overly-involved parents and under-involved school administrators; and we’re not certain if one doesn’t cause the other.
It’s a sport that brings chronic complaints of coaches “stacking” lineups. So serious have the allegations been for so long that the MHSAA actually convened a group and hired a professional facilitator to try to resolve some of the problems, without much success.
It’s a sport that devotes hundreds of hours to seeding; and while the seeds almost always hold up, criticism flies fast and furious for several days each fall and spring following the boys and girls seeding committee meetings.
We are fortunate that the MHSAA’s administrator for tennis, Gina Mazzolini, has the perspective that, in spite of everything, it’s really only a small percentage of people involved who create the majority of problems. It is, in fact, according to Gina, a fine educational experience for the vast majority of students involved.
This “big picture” perspective that Gina exhibits is what allows administrators at the local and statewide levels to remain passionate about their service no matter how prominent or persistent the problems seem.
Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.