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.

It’s a Blizzard

March 18, 2015

Like the good people in Boston and other eastern cities and towns who couldn’t find anywhere to put all the snow they were getting this past winter, those in charge of school sports can’t find anywhere to put all the advice and expertise pouring down on us. We are well beyond the tipping point between too little and too much information regarding concussions.

In one stack before me are different descriptions of concussion signs and symptoms. I could go with a list as short as five symptoms or as long as 15.

In a second stack before me are different sideline detection solutions – tests that take 20 seconds to more than 20 minutes, some that require annual preliminary testing and others that do not.

In a third stack are a variety of return-to-play or return-to-learn protocols, ranging from a half-dozen steps to more than twice that number.

When I read that the National Football League, with all of its resources, was “overwhelmed by all of the expert opinion right now,” I was not comforted.
We have to cut through the clutter and provide our constituents clear and concise recommendations for the efficient education of coaches, student-athletes, parents and others; for electronic sideline detection solutions that are not only quick and effective in assessing injuries but also provide immediate reports and permanent records of concussions; and for protocols that place return to play well behind return to practice and further behind return to learn.