Playing Time
December 20, 2013
I spent just enough time sitting on the bench during my high school basketball and college football careers to know I hated it, and I hurt for those who sat on the bench all the time. Even as a headstrong, self-centered adolescent, it occurred to me that not being able to play as much as one might want, or not at all, had to be a terrible feeling.
This greatly affected my approach to coaching football. As defensive coordinator, I would see who was not engaged on the first two offensive units and begin to teach these “extras” defensive skills and strategies. Several players found their niche and contributed either as starters or key reserves on defense.
I made it a point at the subvarsity level to give playing time every week to every player who was on time to and active at every practice that week; and I tried to give a start to every player who met all our team rules and responsibilities for the season.
I know from the reactions of these players and their parents that their attitude about our program improved as they became increasingly engaged with our football team. I saw also that they seemed to support their classroom teachers more, as well as other aspects of our school.
I’ve lost track of them, but I suspect these players and parents continued to be positive voices for the school for many more years – among the loud voices who would not support the transfer of sports from schools to community groups and private clubs. They would advocate more opportunities to be a part of school teams, starting in earlier grades.
Tools of Thought
July 13, 2018
(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.