Weighing Change
September 21, 2011
The national high school wrestling rules committee changed the weight classes for the 1994-95 season; and it changed them back for the 1995-96 season.
This is one of several reasons why Michigan has not adopted the national committee’s changes for the 2011-12 season. At the very least, we’re going to wait to see if the change survives.
The 14 weight classes that will continue in Michigan are as follows: 103, 112, 119, 125, 130, 135, 140, 145, 152, 160, 171, 189, 215 and 285.
The national rules for 2011-12 are: 106, 113, 120, 126, 132, 138, 145, 152, 160, 170, 182, 195, 220 and 285.
In delaying the change for MHSAA member schools, the MHSAA Representative Council listened to the overwhelming sentiments of the state’s high school wrestling coaches. Many have criticized the new weight classes because they eliminate a middle weight where most high school wrestlers are found and they add an upper weight class where many teams already have holes in their lineup.
Standing pat also eliminates the need for new expenditures for printed materials and software programs.
The greatest inconvenience of not changing is when our schools along the borders of Indiana, Ohio and Wisconsin compete with schools of those states. This is creating questions related to the weight monitoring program and seeding.
The MHSAA will stay in frequent, close contact with high school wrestling coaches and their administrators as future decisions are made.
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?