A Shift
April 10, 2018
The disease of youth sports generally – observed in premature sports specialization and the commercialization of kids’ games by both local entrepreneurs and corporate giants – is infecting school-based sports, especially basketball.
We see it in transfers by starters and dropouts among reserves.
We see it in short benches for JV and varsity games and empty gyms.
There is no shame in identifying our weak spots; it’s the only way to start fixing them.
And heavens! NCAA men’s basketball is being investigated by the FBI. Players are being ruled ineligible. Coaches are being fired. Others are being arrested.
School-based basketball is beautiful by comparison! But we can and must be better. And that can only begin to happen by facing up to our shortcomings.
The clock is ticking on the life of school-based basketball, and only a change in emphasis – a cultural shift – may save what arguably has been the most historically important sport in our schools. A shift ...
Away from all-star games for a few graduating seniors and toward junior high/middle school programs open to all kids.
-
Away from national events and toward city, county and conference rivalries.
-
Away from “elite” travel teams and toward local K-6 development programs operated by schools.
-
Away from creeping commercialism and blatant professionalism and toward a re-commitment to amateurism.
-
Away from gamesmanship and toward sportsmanship as a precursor to citizenship.
-
Away from running up the score – a lot – and toward playing every kid – a lot.
The leaders and lovers of school-based basketball must resist the slippery slope and advocate for the cultural shift. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon or rocket scientist to save school-based basketball; but it does take courage and persistence.
Cutting Kids
September 25, 2012
As an athlete, I dreaded the days. Even when I was a returning starter, I approached with anxiety the page taped to the locker room door that would indicate who made the high school basketball team (and, by omission, who didn’t).
As a coach, I refused to do it. I wasn’t even tempted to cut anybody from my squads. But I was lucky. I coached football and golf, and the outdoor practice venues gave us enough room for almost limitless opportunities.
As a parent, I’ve cried over it. Watching my older son be cut from a non-school basketball program for junior high boys (he switched to wrestling in high school and had a fine career). Watching my younger son be cut four times from the travel soccer team (he made it on the fifth try and started for his high school freshman and junior varsity soccer teams during the two years after that).
At no time have I been more deeply troubled and saddened than watching the world of sports, to which I devote my working life, say, “No thank you” to my sons, to whom I dedicated my entire life.
As an administrator, I grieve over the process every year. I listen to complaints of parents. I watch them go from allies to enemies of high school sports.
Why would we limit squad sizes for outdoor sports?
Why would we cut freshmen who haven’t even matured yet and have only a little idea what they might like or be good at?
Why would we not find room for a senior who has been on the team for three years and continues to have a good attitude and work ethic?
Why would we turn away eligible boys and girls who would rather work and sweat after school than cruise and loiter?
Why do we persist in shutting out and turning against us the parents who would be our advocates today and the students who would be our advocates in the future?