School Sports Reflection: Play to Learn

December 7, 2018

By Christopher Mundy
Special for benchmarks 

Christopher Mundy is a graduate of Manton High School and Michigan State University and the principal of Mundy Advisors Group in Chicago. This commentary previously was published this summer in the Traverse City Record-Eagle.

What are sports really about today? And are today's parents missing the point? Time, money, effort and energy. All for what? Trophies, medals, first place, a college scholarship or that top-five draft pick and that multi-million dollar contract that come with it. Fortune and fame? 

Why does American society have such an obsession with sports, and are the true values of the games being lost in the “new” modern era of sports?

What if the games kids played were for the pure values of competition, hard work, camaraderie, trust, respect, discipline, communication and relationship building? Even just expressing these words and phrases seems healthier than the win-at-all-cost, everyone-gets-a-trophy, playing for the “end game” society we currently live in.

What messages are we instilling/infusing in our future leaders? It has become a strong and consistent message across all fronts – the arms race to be the best and win at all costs.

Families sacrificing their most precious resources, time and money, for what? For the golden child, the chosen child ... that special one. A glimmer of hope that becomes a burning obsession (for the parent). Are parents attempting to right their wrongs of their playing days or relive their youth through their child? It is an easy and complex trap. 

I don’t have children, but I have played sports for nearly 40 years. I have coached, officiated, watched and listened closely at all levels. A spectator with an intense passion for the lessons to learn and a strong curiosity of why and how. I guess at 45 I am old ... or maybe just old-school.

Being raised on an isolated farm in Northern Michigan with a dirt driveway and a makeshift basketball hoop created the love affair with sports. Games of pig, horse or around-the-world with my father are some of my fondest memories. He has since passed. He would always shoot with his off-hand or easy bunny shots to finish me off. And Dad always told me, if you want to play in the fourth quarter, be a 90-percent free-throw shooter and the coach has to put you in.

Baseball would entail games of rain on the roof by myself and a homemade batting tee to hit home runs into the pasture. Football was either offense-defense (three-person football, with my father as quarterback) against my older sister or breakaway running plays against my aggressive dogs; a stiff-arm was my best defense. No video games or cable television on our farm, maybe this fueled my fire or forced my hand. It sure did not make friends want to come over for sleepovers. 

Small town America was a great place to be raised. I am biased in that regard. I do think it takes a village to raise a child. Sports was and is the fiber of these communities; it was reality TV before reality TV, and what Friday Night Lights was based on. Kids playing a game for a common goal. It could not be more simple or pure. They are called “games” for a reason. When did we start taking it so seriously? Where did we go wrong? 

In high school, we were pretty good. You put kids together since kindergarten and they kind of know and trust each other, they know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. They know more than this. They know each other’s families. And extended families. They pretty much know everything about each other. Which family is broken and which one may have a little more love at their dinner table. Good or bad, this is the reality of being raised in a small town.

Our basketball team was so good we received a top-five ranking, and legendary Detroit Free Press writer Mick McCabe compared us to Hickory, Indiana, in the movie “Hoosiers.” No Hollywood ending for Manton in 1991 though.

This is where the lessons of sports become real; the harsh reality of your childhood fantasies begin to fade, and fade quickly. The hours spent in that driveway will lead to no state championships. The early morning trips to the gym to play against your adult coaches would lead to no college scholarships. And the thousands of hours in the weight room lifting, jumping rope and wearing ankle weights would lead to no multi-million dollar contract. Devastating. Crushing. The end?

No. This is just the beginning. 

This is the beginning of life’s toughest lessons being learned. This is where the sweat of your youth meets the tears of maturity, leading to a wisdom that is worth more than any trophy. Maturity is processing these challenging life lessons, learning from them and moving on. If you do not let go of these failures, the burdens can lead you to a life of regret or maybe becoming that aggressive parent trying correct his or her shortcomings through a son or daughter. You know these parents from your kid's games, and I hope you are not one of them.

It has often been stated more is learned from losing than winning. The lessons from failure burn deep, etched into our soul, this pain more powerful than the glory of victory. These lessons and scenarios easily translate to our personal relationships and work life. Memorable. Powerful anecdotes that become part of us. Part of or history. Part of our story. Erase these chapters from our lives, and what are we left with? A shell of a person. A half-written book. A journey half-walked. Perspective with no depth.

These kinds of lessons can’t be learned in a textbook, cannot be explained by a parent or modeled by a teacher in a classroom. The field, the court, the rink is where these lessons are learned. Where family values are refined. Manners are taught. And respect is earned.

Or is it?

This is the crossroads we are at as a society.  I cannot think of any other vehicle that offers so much potential and opportunity for the building of character. It starts with the family. And where does it go from there? School, church, a job. The military. A fraternity. Volunteering? An internship or apprenticeship? A civic organization?

Nope. Sports.

Sports is the most dynamic and able tool to build character. The kind of character we need right now as a country and society. Polished. Refined. Character with a sharp edge. An edge called courage. But the reality is sports has become about money, power and control. Are these qualities desirable? Have they corrupted the innocence of sports? Do we worship false idols? Is this generation entitled? Have we given them too much? Made it to easy?

Are the kids having fun? What do the kids want? Do kids have and show a genuine passion for a sport? Have we dared to ask them? Have we prepped them with the appropriate answer? Or do we answer for them? Do we hear them OR do we listen to them? To clarify, listening is an active process of hearing and then processing. Coach Tom Izzo starts each basketball camp with, “Learn to listen ... and listen to learn.” It is that simple.

I do think communication is vital to this process. Communication between all parties: athletic directors, coaches, parents and players. Governing bodies. All stakeholders. A real and raw dialogue on what we collectively want out of sports. Because somehow we have gotten lost, and the many headlines and feature stories confirm the crossroads where we’ve arrived.

Do we as leaders, adults, parents care enough to look into the mirror and ask the tough questions? Or is it just easier to proceed as is?  If you believe sports has a larger impact than trophies, medals and ribbons, a larger value than money, then I encourage you to start the conversation with those around you. Our communities’ futures depend on these conversations.

We may soon reach a point of no return, and this would be a catastrophic failure for our generation. When playing for the “love of the game” is just a marketing tagline and not a real opportunity for our kids. For our children’s sake, I hope this is not the case. I know I am a better athlete, better professional and better human from all the losses in my life.

Play hard. Play to compete. Play with passion. Play to learn.

Flyers to Terriers, Quakers & Orioles

December 15, 2020

By Ron Pesch
Special for Second Half

Education and all that comes with it, in case you haven’t noticed, is changing. Of course, that’s always been the case. Virtual learning is simply the latest transformation.

Once we were a nation filled with one-room school houses. By 1910, postcard evidence shows that, at least in Michigan, nearly every town of size had a high school, and that these buildings were showcases for community pride. From wood to brick to limestone, many of the earliest structures had bell towers. By the 1920s, in larger cities, small schools run by neighborhood churches were quite common. Most from those days were multiple-story buildings.

In hindsight, some of those buildings seem incredibly large for the communities they served. Others, too small – especially come the post-war baby boom era, when the suburbs exploded with growth and opportunity and Michigan’s major cities began to shrink in size. The 1950s and 1960s saw numerous Upper Peninsula and rural schools consolidate, while various big-city suburban districts split into two.

Continued development beyond the first ring of suburbs and decreasing birth rates have combined, with the introduction of school of choice in 1996, to played havoc with enrollments and facilities in more recent times. Today, public and private academies seem to pop up and disappear overnight.

For someone trying to follow along, there are plenty of challenges.

A TOOLBOX

Historians, like many others, require a toolbox to accomplish their work. One of my favorite tools is a spreadsheet that I created several years back. I refer to it as “The List.” It’s my Master List of Michigan High Schools, and I reference it often. But lately, the document has been in a bit of disarray.

It’s been a mess before. Without a focused sabbatical or a grant, it likely will never be polished quite to my satisfaction.

Lost somewhere in time

Scattered to the four winds are details about the naming of schools, their consolidations, relocations and closings. Sadly, stories of how and why schools selected nicknames are often forgotten.

Parochial schools can present challenges of their own. Seemingly countless have opened, closed, consolidated or relocated over the years in Michigan. The city of Detroit alone has played host to a least 32 “Saint” high schools, from St. Agatha to St. Vincent.

Detroit Catholic Central’s history includes five sites in three separate cities. As noted in my document, Catholic Central is an “All-Boys” school and today located in Novi. Few recall that, beginning in the fall of 1928, there was also a Detroit Girls Catholic Central. It closed in 1969.

Grand Rapids Catholic Central, founded in 1906, states it is the “oldest coeducational Catholic high school in the nation.” They have been known as the Cougars since 1930 or before. Muskegon Catholic Central consolidated three local schools – St. Mary, St. Joseph and St. Jean – and opened in the fall of 1953.

Flint Powers represents another example. My spreadsheet notes that the school’s full name is Flint Powers Catholic Central, and that it was named in honor of Rev. Luke M. Powers. The athletic teams are nicknamed the Chargers. The school was formed by the merger of seven Genesee County schools in 1970 – Flint Catholic schools Holy Redeemer, St. Agnes, St. John Vianney, St. Mary, St. Matthew, St. Michael and Mt. Morris St. Mary. Within the spreadsheet, I also capture their team nicknames: Flyers, Crusaders, Hornets, Wildcats, Panthers, Warriors, and Shamrocks, valuable information in case I find opportunity to write about their athletic accomplishments.

Garden City High School split into Garden City East and West in the mid-1960s, then reunited beginning with the 1982-83 school year. Royal Oak divided into Dondero and Kimball high schools in the late ’50s. They again unified in 2006. Pontiac High School split into Central and Northern in 1958. They merged back into Pontiac High in 2009.

More recently, in 2012, Wyoming Park and Wyoming Rogers merged. Ypsilanti Willow Run and Ypsilanti High School consolidated into Ypsilanti Community Schools in 2013.

Flint’s oldest high school, Central, shuttered in 2009, followed by Flint Northern in 2013. Albion was absorbed into Marshall in 2013. Word is Saginaw and Saginaw Arthur Hill will soon unite.

Once, Michigan had four high schools that used “Flyers” as their nickname: previously mentioned Flint Holy Redeemer, Detroit St. Andrew, Grosse Pointe St. Paul and Willow Run, which used the nickname as a nod to the area’s ties to Airforce Plant 31, constructed by Ford to manufacture twin-finned B-24 bombers during the early 1940s for the war effort. Today, there are no schools left in Michigan that carry the nickname.

“The List” reminds me that Ferndale changed from the “Railsplitters” to the “Eagles” when they moved from old Ferndale Lincoln High into the newly-opened Ferndale High School in the fall of 1958. They are not to be confused with the “Railsplitters” of Ypsilanti Lincoln or Lincoln Park.

Caledonia once used “Scotties” as the nickname for its athletic teams, but the students chose to change the nickname to the more intimidating “Fighting Scots” in the late 1960s. (I’m still trying to chase down the actual school year of the alteration.)

“The List” explains why the Midland “Chemics” have a lion named Vic for a mascot. (It seems that in 1938, a new high school was built and “the Student Union decided to start some new traditions in order to display pride in their new high school. The school purchased a stuffed lion – a symbol of pride – to be used as a mascot. The name Vic was chosen for the mascot in short for the word ‘Victory’, voted in by the students.”)

Uniqueness

Distinctive nicknames fascinate me, but I always want the story behind the choice. I have written on the subject previously. Digging around the internet, I recently found a reference that was new to me. Alpena St. Anne’s high school athletic teams apparently were nicknamed the “Couturemen.”

The dictionary describes “Couture” as a designer, maker and seller of custom clothing. The word is French in origin. So I shipped off an e-mail the other day to a parish secretary in Alpena, with a question about the very unusual nickname. My question worked its way to Fr. Frank Muszkiewicz.

“St. Anne Church had been the "French" church here in Alpena when there were the more ethnic heritage Catholic communities,” he responded. “My understanding is that St. Anne had a high school until 1951, when Catholic Central High School opened in Alpena …

“Looking at a history book of St. Anne Church in Alpena,” he continued, “I did see a couple of pictures of boys' basketball teams from the 1920's and 1940's, however it seems the team name was the "Big Reds". So, I'm not sure where the "Couturemen" name came from that you found.”

From the late 1920s into the 1940s, it became quite popular to tie nicknames to teams. But before a moniker was assigned, it wasn’t unusual for newspaper writers to refer to a team by the school colors, or blend the last name of a coach with the word “men” when penning a story about a local squad. For example, Bay City Central’s teams often were called “Nevittmen” after coach Garland Nevitt before taking on the nickname “Wolves” around 1927. Muskegon’s teams were “Jacksmen” after their coach, J. Francis Jacks, before they were called the “Big Reds.”

A December 1940 newspaper, covering a game between Ludington St. Simon and St. Anne, gives a hint that this might be the case at St. Anne’s. A player at St. Anne, who happened to foul out of the game, had the last name, Couture. Perhaps there is a similar connection in St. Anne’s history.

Identities

In September 1928, Lansing Eastern athletic teams became known as the Quakers. “The name is derived from the location of the school,” stated the Lansing State Journal, explaining the unusual choice. “Pennsylvania was the original home of the Quakers of the Colonial period of our history, and the new high school, being situated on Pennsylvania Avenue, will be known by the name of the original settlers in the Keystone State.”

In a November 1929 contest conducted by the State Journal, East Lansing, “long without a nickname,” became the Trojans. “The nickname was the choice of more than 50 per cent of the students.”

In May 1930, The Ludington Daily News noted that “Recently the Northern Michigan Big Six Athletic conference stimulated interest among pupils of the six cities in athletics and team competition … High School pupils of the respective towns proposed nicknames for their school teams and indicated their favorite by vote. Manistee chose the name of ‘Chippewas,’ Traverse City, ‘Trojans,’ Petoskey ‘Northmen,’ Cadillac ‘Vikings’ and Big Rapids ‘Cardinals.’ The time-honored name of ‘Orioles’ was voted to be retained by Ludington high school pupils, completing the list of six schools.”

Impressed, the Daily News quickly went to work to sponsor a county-wide contest with schools in Oceana County to select team nicknames. Later in the month, they announced results of the project.

“Scottville high school teams will henceforth be known as ‘Spartans,’ and Freesoil aggregation as ‘Buccaneers.’

“The team nicknames were decided upon by pupils of their respective institutions under a program of selections sponsored by the News.

“Two schools, Custer and Shelby, will retain their original team titles, (Ludington) St. Simon’s and Hart have not announced a final decision and Pentwater and Walkerville have made no report.”

Scottville’s choice of “Spartans” succeeded the name ‘Canners’ which had been used for a number of years, “a significant, but an unpicturesque appellation.” A rich agricultural part of the state, Scottville was home to a huge W.R. Roach and Co. canning facility. It closed in 2000 after nearly 90 years in business, displacing nearly 300 workers. “Wolverines” had also “won a goodly number of votes as did ‘Hornets.’”

“Cardinals” was retained at Custer.

“Word from Coach T.T. Thatcher at Shelby discloses Shelby’s choice as ‘Pee Wees.’ A selection made last year.

“Shelby voted in 1929 to use that name,’ he says, ‘and since then we have used an emblem on all our suits showing a Pee Wee and S.H.S on it. Our school colors are purple and white so the name is symbolic of the colors.”

For two of the schools, the decisions must have been relatively short-lived. By 1934, Shelby was using the nickname “Tigers.” Freesoil’s nickname had evolved into “Pirates” by the 1940s.

Earlier this year, the Hillsdale Daily News did a series of articles on the history of nicknames for schools in its coverage area. Hillsdale became the ‘Hornets’ in October 1932 following a poll of current football players and faculty. The Daily News at the time announced the nickname had won by a wide margin. Pittsford, it’s believed, first introduced its use of “Wildcats” “around the time the district consolidated in 1938.” At Waldron, “Spartans” was selected over “Lions” and “Bears” in a contest run by the school newspaper, also in 1938. “Students at the time were likely influenced by Waldron’s proximity to Michigan State University, among other factors,” noted the paper.

The Daily News piece on Litchfield was of special interest to me. The only high school in Michigan nicknamed Terriers, I didn’t know much about its origins – only that from my previous research, the nickname had survived a proposed alteration by the Litchfield Student Council during the 1956-57 school year.

“They aroused quite a discussion within the student body as to the idea of changing the name of our team – Terriers.” stated the school’s yearbook. “But the idea was dropped.”

“According to Litchfield schools employee Judy Bills, the Litchfield Terriers mascot came about through the influence of former teacher and coach Al Terry in the 1930s,” stated the Daily News article. “It was while Terry was teacher and coach in Litchfield schools that the athletic teams became known as the Litchfield Terriers, Bills said.”

For a historian, sometimes answers spur more questions.

Was Litchfield’s team nickname also swayed by Major League Baseball?

Allen Terry coached at Litchfield from 1932 through the fall of 1940 before continuing his career at Plainwell High School.

Interestingly, during that same timespan, a future MLB Hall of Fame inductee, Bill Terry, served as player-manager of the New York Giants. His team’s often grabbed newspaper headlines with a reference to the phrase, “Terry’s Terriers” in the connected article.

Did the sharing of “Terry” as a last name influence the nickname selection in Litchfield?

Who knows what the future holds for education, school districts and team nicknames across Michigan. Ypsilanti Community School students in grades 7-12 picked Grizzlies over Trailblazers and Flyers in 2013. There are six “Bears,” two “Black Bears” and a single “Polar Bears” on the MHSAA current active lists. Now there is one “Grizzlies.”

Today, “The List” contains 1,438 active and inactive high schools and totals 289 unique nicknames.

Wait.

There’s a St. Helen Charlton Heston Academy? It’s named after the actor, who played Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” It seems he spent part of his childhood in the area.

Make that 1,439.

(Thanks Eric Albright for the ‘Vic the Lion’ Story. I continue to seek out information on old departed high schools in Michigan as well as the stories behind nicknames. Please drop me a line.)

Ron Pesch has taken an active role in researching the history of MHSAA events since 1985 and began writing for MHSAA Finals programs in 1986, adding additional features and "flashbacks" in 1992. He inherited the title of MHSAA historian from the late Dick Kishpaugh following the 1993-94 school year, and resides in Muskegon. Contact him at [email protected] with ideas for historical articles.

PHOTOS: (Top) Logos which have come, and sometimes gone along with those MHSAA schools through the years. (2) Kalkaska High School – from a postcard postmarked 1908. (3) Old Pontiac High School, built in 1913-14, became known as Pontiac Central once Pontiac Northern opened in 1958. (4) Ypsilanti Willow Run’s Flyers logo. (5) The logo used by Lansing Eastern’s Quakers. (6) Litchfield’s Terrier, as it appeared on the cover of the 1963 yearbook. (7) The logo for St. Helen Charlton Heston Academy’s Patriots. (Images collected by Ron Pesch.)