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.

Prep Prose

January 27, 2017

Mick McCabe retired in December after almost five full decades at the Detroit Free Press.

When Mick agreed with me, he did so boldly. When he disagreed, he sometimes did so brutally. 

He was at his best, and did most for school sports in Michigan, when he told the stories of coaches and athletes in the cities, suburbs and small towns all across our state. Especially when he told the stories of those who would never coach or play a game beyond the high school level. Especially when he found and focused on an unknown person in a low-profile sport who raised our spirits by reminding us of how good educational athletics can be.

Mick may have written more words about high school sports in Michigan than any person ever. And that's saying a lot when one remembers Jack Moss and Bob Gross and Bob Becker and Jane Bos and Del Newell and Cindy Fairfield and a dozen other retired sports writers in our state whose substantial bodies of work promoted prep sports.

School sports usually has been well-served by such media professionals who were allowed by their industry to take the time necessary to know the people and the policies that served school sports, and were allowed  the space to develop stories that went beyond headlines, tweets and texts, with fuller facts and closer truth than is the norm today.