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.

In An Instant

August 4, 2015

The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.

My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.

Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.

What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.

A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.

I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.

We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.