Singing Spectators

December 6, 2013

Unlike many of my counterparts who are engaged in the administration of statewide high school athletic associations, I do not seek in my free time to attend other athletic events as a spectator. Nevertheless, more by accident than design, I’ve had an opportunity to see some of the biggest events and most iconic stadia in the United States.

But none of these events or venues holds a candle to the Boca Juniors’ 2-1 victory over Tigre at La Bombonera (“the chocolate box”) in Buenos Aires last month. It was merely a regular-season event between two nearby opponents – nothing special on the world’s soccer schedule. But it was amazing.

We had been warned that the neighborhood was unsafe and the 80,000 members of the Boca Juniors Athletic Club were savage about acquiring tickets for the ancient stadium’s intimate 50,000 seats; and that they were raucous, rowdy spectators. But in the absence of alcohol sales in the stadium and within a five-block radius of the stadium and in the presence of nonstop, nearly choreographed song and gesture – starting 15 minutes before the game until even longer after – this became one of the most enjoyable athletic events I’ve ever attended. Never have I observed a louder or more melodious crowd of spectators.

Except for a halftime rest, the crowd sang without letup, and with a bit more volume and energy for a direct or corner kick. The crowd sang when a home team defender deflected the ball into his own goal early in the first half. It sang louder when the home team scored the tying goal in the 39th minute of the second half. It sang even louder when the home team broke the tie in extra time. And the singing continued as the crowd descended the ancient stadium’s stairwells to the street after the match.

I was surprised to conclude that a professional football match in South America was a more pleasant experience than a professional football game in North America. It had nothing to do with the shape of the ball; it had everything to do with the condition of the crowd – the absence of alcohol and the presence of song.

Beyond Fairness

April 11, 2017

One of the lessons I learned decades ago when I was employed at the National Federation of State High School Associations (NFHS) is that sometimes the playing rules are not fair.

The NFHS is the publisher of playing rules for most high school sports, and its rule books govern competition for most of the contests for most of the high schools in the U.S.

But the NFHS doesn’t publish the most fair rules. On purpose.

The rules for the high school level attempt to do much more than promote competitive equity, or a balance between offense and defense; they also attempt – without compromising participant health and safety – to simplify the administration of the game.

Unlike Major League Baseball, where umpires officiate full-time, and professional basketball, football and ice hockey where they officiate nearly full-time, the officials at the high school level are part-timers. They have other jobs. This is their avocation, not their vocation.

So the NFHS develops and publishes rules that minimize exceptions to the rules. In football, for example, there are fewer variables for determining the spot where penalties are enforced.

At the high school level, the rule makers intend that the rules be – for players, coaches and officials alike – quicker to learn, simpler to remember, and easier to apply during the heat of contests.