Why We Do What We Do
March 24, 2017
The vast majority of daily activities of Michigan High School Athletic Association staff revolve around communicating the meaning of educational athletics. That’s why we do most of what we do.
That’s the No. 1 duty of John Johnson in all things broadcasting for the MHSAA. It’s the No. 1 duty of Geoff Kimmerly in managing the MHSAA’s Second Half website with hundreds of positive stories about kids, coaches, officials and administrators. It’s the No. 1 duty of Rob Kaminski in managing MHSAA.com, in producing souvenir programs for MHSAA tournaments and publishing benchmarks magazine.
Communicating the meaning of educational athletics is the No. 1 reason I post 104 blogs every year. It’s the “why” of our Scholar-Athlete program, of the Student Advisory Council, of the Battle of the Fans, of our social media presence, of our Captains Clinics and Sportsmanship Summits, of the Coaches Advancement Program, Athletic Director In-Service programs and both MHSAA.tv and the NFHS Network.
When we conduct MHSAA tournaments, two things happen: (1) kids and coaches get an opportunity to shine; and (2) we get the opportunity to tell the story of school sports.
When we enforce rules, two things happen: (1) we pursue fairness and safety in competition in that case particularly; and (2) we promote the principles of educational athletics generally.
The job we have is event management, and it’s eligibility management; but most of all, the job is message management.
Oyster Stew
November 13, 2015
Jonathan Swift, an 18th Century writer I was introduced to as an English major in college, grabbed my attention and loyalty with the statement, “He was a bold man who first ate an oyster.”
I’ve hated oysters for their look, their texture and their taste; and also because, as a child, oyster stew was the Christmas Eve fare that stood between me and the time when we could begin opening presents under the Christmas tree.
But I have loved Swift’s metaphor.
Imagine the courage – or the desperation – of the first person to eat an oyster … or any other ugly, slimy critter ... raw!
But it is often this person, bold or desperate enough, who looks past appearances to tackle something of such unpleasant prospects, who actually makes the discovery or connects the dots or makes the breakthrough necessary for real progress.
What are the most unappetizing issues before us? Transfers? Football scheduling? Specialization? What unappealing solutions might we be avoiding because they look so awful? Are we bold enough to take a bite out of them?