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.
Involvement vs. Meaningful Involvement
November 27, 2012
By Jed Blanton
MSU Institute for the Study of Youth Sports
As I've worked with the MHSAA in student leadership development and through my role in performance consulting and mental training, a number of coaches and athletes have asked me how to “get kids to buy in” or see the vision of their coach/captain, etc.
Particularly in high school sports, rosters consist of players with reasons for participating in their sport that range from pure enjoyment and social life, all the way to kids with aspirations and ability to play in the highest level of college athletics.
Having a range of talent, and then a range of desire and commitment can be a difficult load to balance as a coach.
Based on the questions I've been posed over the years, it seems that the magic answer lies somewhere in this notion of “buy-in” and if, just if, the coach could trigger that “buy-in” everything would work out. A winning season or at least a more successful season would be a certainty, and all the athletes would be emotionally involved, or more so, emotionally invested, as well as completely and fully physically and mentally committed to THE GAME.
This almost sounds like the ideal ending of a Disney sports movie … but that doesn't mean it isn't a possibility, and we can find some ways to make your reality closer to this vision.
The trick is … there is no trick; there is no magic formula. The ability to create “buy-in” means giving up something that might make a coach shudder and cringe just a bit. My challenge to coaches is this: Give up control. SHARE some of the duties and tasks you feel are your job, with … your players.
DON’T hit the back button or close your browser just yet. Let me explain.
The first thing to understand here is how people learn. If we want our athletes to “buy in,” we may have to teach “buy-in” first, which involves understanding how people learn behaviors and adopt a mentality, as the state of “buy-in” would be considered.
Psychologically, we know that people can learn merely from watching and modeling others. But in the short-term, this tends to include only behaviors, not the more abstract notions of passion or commitment which is seemingly what coaches desire more of in their players when we talk about “buy-in.”
However, it is important. So the first thing a coach needs to do is behave in such ways that indicate they are “bought in,” more so than just telling kids to be more committed. Have you ever stopped to think about what it looks like when someone has “bought in” to an athletic team’s vision? Do you have a team vision statement to guide behaviors and goals?
The next step in how people learn new behaviors upon watching others is having those behaviors they are attempting to mimic reinforced. Encouraging players and showing gratitude to those who demonstrate the desired mentality will help foster the expectations you have for your players. I must point out here that punishing or dismissing players and behaviors that stray from this desired state won’t help the learning process.
Next, and here is where the challenge lies, is sacrificing some control and sharing some responsibilities with your players. This entails involving them in the process of the sport. So often our high school athletes experience sport very passively. They are told what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. Then critiqued, sometimes put down and constantly judged on their abilities to do very little else than act in the ways they are told to act.
There is no option for personal investment here. Trust is the guiding factor. And while trust is extremely important, it’s not what may ultimately create “buy-in.”
Involvement fosters ownership. Meaningful involvement requires an emotional investment because the amount of responsibility increases. So what does being meaningfully involved look like? Being meaningfully involved in the sport as an athlete would mean being able to make decisions that are then actually carried out before they are critiqued. If you ask a player what they think about any given decision, then tell them what you think (which is also what they’ll do), you are merely seeking input rather than allowing them to be involved. What would it look like if the captain or senior players were able to set the starting line-up or batting order? Or what if the athletes were in charge of running a two-hour practice once a week? How about letting one or two of the athletes decide what play is going to be run in the final minutes of a close game? I mentioned the word “trust” earlier, and the key in these examples is coaches are showing athletes “trust.” This just might be what fosters the all important “buy-in.”
The hardest part on the coaches’ end is letting the decision play out, and then talking about why it may have failed. Discussing it rationally, debriefing the decision, and allowing them to process where the mistake was made without placing blame on them is where athletes can really learn about their sport, their role on the team, and how to make tough decisions while sharing in the full experience of the competition and preparation.
There is always a chance they’ll make the same decision you would make as the coach. After all, they have been practicing in your system. This is a great way to assess if you are having an impact and if your athletes are learning rather than just passively participating.
As a former athlete, I can honestly say I never truly understood my sport (distance running) until I was asked to serve as a race director or create training programs for younger athletes and people interested in taking their running to a more competitive level. I’m sure for most first-time coaches, the number of decisions you have to make humbles your former-athlete self rather quickly.
Watching the student leadership program participants I work with struggle with projects and presentations they are asked to design is tough, and I want nothing more than to help them and make sure that it’s “right.” But I can also say that in those times when I've been able to see the end result in those instances when they made the decisions, they created something on their own, they are happier, more knowledgeable, and certainly “bought in,” as they have control for the first time.
Blanton is a doctoral candidate at Michigan State University in the department of Kinesiology, specializing in the PsychoSocial Aspects of Sport and Physical Activity, and a research assistant for MSU's Institute for the Study of Youth Sports. He has served as a facilitator at MHSAA Captains Clinics the last three years and currently is assisting the association with its student leadership programs.