“What Can I Do?”
October 16, 2015
One of the very first chapters that educators wrote on the fundamentals of school-sponsored, student-centered sports described the bad of single-sport specialization and the benefits of multi-sport participation. And the basic policies of educational athletics have flowed for decades from that philosophy.
Sadly, every reasonable restraint that educators placed on school sports was eventually exploited by non-school youth sports organizations and commercial promoters which have seen the world quite differently and have filled almost every gap in school sports programs with alternative or additional programs that started sooner, traveled further, competed longer and ended later than educators believed was healthy for youth and adolescents and compatible with their academic obligations.
Recently (and as reported in this space on Sept. 15, 2015), there has been a chorus of concerns from many different corners echoing the voices of educators who had just about given up on this issue. Suddenly, early single-sport specialization by youth is being attacked from many directions as being injurious for youth, and the multi-sport experience (aka, “balanced participation”) is being advanced as the healthy prescription.
Now I’m being asked by interscholastic athletic administrators: “Yes, I hear the chatter, and I see the evidence and anecdotes; but what can I do?” Well, one idea is to follow the lead of St. Joseph High School Athletic Director, Kevin Guzzo.
Last school year Kevin started the “Iron Bears Club” to recognize and reward the school’s three-sport athletes. And last month Kevin made the multi-sport imperative a central theme in his annual report to the St. Joseph Board of Education.
Little steps in a local community? Perhaps. But multiply Kevin’s efforts by 500 or more schools in Michigan? It could be a sea change. And it would be good for kids.
Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.