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Post-Event Celebrations
March 16, 2012
In my last posting I praised the high school participant as the best behaved athlete on any level of sport. It’s ironic: based on what we see on higher levels, the older the athlete becomes, the more immature he or she is allowed to behave.
But we do have at least one conduct problem; and it’s one with potential for much bigger problems. It’s post-event celebrations.
Post-event celebrations have led to property damage, and they will lead to personal injuries unless we give the problem more careful attention and supervision.
Post-event celebrations are largely outside of the published playing rules, and they are usually beyond the jurisdiction of contest officials.
So, they will end up being the responsibility of game administration, and injuries will become the liability of game administrators.
This spring, the Representative Council may adopt more policies and procedures to which the MHSAA will direct more attention. The initial focus, as proposed, is on MHSAA team tournaments and to hold participating schools more explicitly accountable for property damage caused by celebrating teams and spectators.
Hopefully, attention to the broader topic and tougher policies for this narrow slice of the problem will reverse what we see as an unhealthy trend in school sports – excessive post-event celebrations.
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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.