Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.
Friday Night Football
September 23, 2016
There continues to be among high school athletic administrators a great gnashing of teeth over encroachment of televised college football on the Friday night turf that long tradition reserves for high school football games. Little by little and year by year, college games drift to all times of the day and all days of the week, and Friday night is no longer hallowed ground for the high school game alone.
The Friday night intercollegiate fare remains mostly irrelevant games by second tier teams, but televised nonetheless because of the overabundance of production entities and networks seeking live sports events. But high school leadership is right to be on guard.
Known to very few people is a million dollar offer in the 1970s by then NCAA Executive Director Walter Byers to the National Federation of State High School Associations if it would not oppose televised college football games on Friday nights. Clifford Fagan, then executive director of the National Federation, declined the offer from his good friend; and the mutual respect these two men enjoyed brought an end to the negotiation.
Then, as now, the National Football League was prohibited by law (part of its anti-trust exception) from televising games on Friday nights and Saturdays from mid-September through mid-December where the broadcast would conflict with a live high school or college game. Under Byers, and until the NCAA lost control of intercollegiate football broadcasting as a result of a legal challenge by what was then called the College Football Association, college football leadership voluntarily gave high school football the same deference on Friday nights that the NFL did under federal law.
Today, major college football is such a ravenous revenue beast that it will schedule play at any time on any day in any location, televising every game – on college conference-controlled networks if the matchup is not attractive enough for national or even regional broadcasts. The Friday night high school football tradition can expect to be trampled as college football swarms and grunts around the feed trough like hungry hogs.