Troublesome Transfers

September 8, 2011

The athletic eligibility transfer regulation adopted by MHSAA member schools, which states that all transfer students are ineligible for approximately one semester unless the student’s situation meets one of 15 stated exceptions, is an imperfect tool. It’s a wide and generally effective net that nevertheless catches some student transfers it should not and misses some transfers it should catch.

To release those students who should not have been snared there is a procedure by which schools may request a waiver from the MHSAA Executive Committee.  During the 2010-11 school year, 320 requests to waive the transfer regulation were made by schools, and 219 waivers were approved by the Executive Committee.

The most troublesome aspect of the transfer regulation is that it does not stop or penalize all transfers that are primarily for athletic reasons.  If a student is eligible under one of the stated exceptions, that student is immediately eligible regardless of the motivation behind the change of schools.

If, however, a student changes schools and that student’s circumstances do not meet one of the 15 stated exceptions that would provide immediate eligibility, there is a provision by which the school which lost the student may challenge that the change was primarily for athletic reasons.  If that school alleges that this was an athletic-motivated transfer and documents its allegations on a timely basis, the MHSAA is authorized to investigate.  If the MHSAA agrees, the student is ineligible for an additional semester.

The school which lost the student has the keys in its pocket.  By rule, only that school can start the process.

The mere presence of this provision has discouraged many athletic-motivated transfers; and the more it is utilized, the more it will discourage these most troublesome transfers.

The Limitation of Rules – Part 1

September 2, 2016

From the age of 10 to 20, my position as a baseball player was catcher. Sometime during that decade I was taught to return the ball to the pitcher with authority, with a snap throw from my ear, targeting the glove-side shoulder of the pitcher.

I caught every inning of every game, including doubleheaders. In those years, there was less concern than today for protecting the arms of pitchers, and there was no thought given to the throwing arms of catchers.

Today, the shoulder of my throwing arm is shot; I cannot throw a ball overhand with any force.

But here’s the thing. I didn’t ruin my throwing arm in youth and school baseball; I wrecked it as an adult doing silly things with a tennis ball on the beach with my teenage son. We had a blast for a summer afternoon, and I’ve paid for it the rest of my life.

The point of this brief baseball bio is to demonstrate an example of the limitations of rules.

We can identify dozens of risks to student-athletes and we can promulgate an equal number of rules to help them avoid injuries in our programs; but we cannot protect them against a lack of common sense in our programs or accidents in other aspects of their lives.

Even if we implement new rules to limit the number of pitches by a player, what good is that if, after reaching the limit, the pitcher and catcher switch positions? Do we need a rule to address that coaching decision too?

Do we need rules that prohibit large students from practicing against small, or experienced players from competing against inexperienced? How would we ever monitor or enforce such rules? Where do rules leave off and common sense take over?

Even if we put players in bubble wrap for sports, what do we do about their decisions away from sports, perhaps in vehicles, with their friends and their cell phones? Where do laws and rules stop, and personal responsibility start?