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.

Counterpoint

February 13, 2018

There is a segment of those who are interested in public education who believe it is their privilege and responsibility to educate their children however and wherever they wish. Some parents believe they should be able to enroll their children anywhere, subsidized by taxpayers, and have immediate and full access to all the school’s programs and services.

This is a factor that helps to fuel transfers in school sports. But for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Watching on the sidelines and wringing their hands are the parents of those students who are displaced from positions and playing time on school sports teams by those who have dropped into their programs after moves from other schools ... moves necessitated not by changes in parents’ employment or other imperatives, but by parents’ changing attitudes about their local school sports team.

Transfer rules are designed in part to protect those who are not unhappy, who are not dissatisfied with a coach or playing time or the offensive system the team is using, or are willing to work through issues and learn from them. Transfer rules are designed for those who have put in their time within a program and are anticipating their opportunity to play.

Within every chorus singing “Let him or her play,” there are many others humming a different tune.