I grew up in Ypsilanti, Michigan in the 50s and 60s. If you've ever been to what is now Beyer Memorial Hospital, there used to be, in the northeast comer of that property, a field about an acre in size. We called it Kramer's Field. I don't know why. I guess a family named Kramer once owned it although I never met them.

It was on Kramer's Field that I learned many things about life. I certainly learned to play baseball and football. I practiced these crafts for hours and hours.

I can remember spending entire summer days playing at Kramer's Field. Kids don't do that any more. They are too consumed today with video games and computers and Little League baseball and football or youth soccer, all those organized sports that cost money. Other than a football, glove and bat and a few baseballs (most of which I got as presents), I can't think of a time when I spent anything to play at Kramer's Field.

But did I learn and not just about sports. On one particular Sunday during the late fall of my 8th-grade year, I learned what I now call the "Dave" concept of life.

It was a cold November Sunday and we were battling for the NFL championship of Kramer's Field. Our school season had long since been completed.

This game was likely the last game of the season. Snow bad reared its ugly head a few times that fall and it was getting rather chilly even for us to be playing outside. Defense had taken over that day. The score was 6-6 (we didn't kick extra points or go for two in those days.) Time was running out because we had all been invited over to my friend Clark's house for dinner and you didn't miss one of Clark's mother's dinners.

From across the field came a familiar face. It was, we'll call him "Dave." Dave had a tough reputation, especially during that time because he had just been released from the Juvenile Home where he had spent the preceding six months for something I've long forgotten.

Since our team was short one player, we named Dave to our team (Kramer's Field rules).

The ball was about 30 yards from the end zone and in the huddle we began devising some very complicated offense plays using the little knowledge we had picked up from organized football in junior high. Terms like "reverse," "double reverse," "double team," "kick out," "fly pattern," and "transcontinental" were thrown about like we were seasoned veterans.
We began to argue about what was going to be called when suddenly Dave said, "Just give me the damn ball." We did, we scored and we won the game.

How simple. How basic. How rudimentary. How stupid of us not to realize that it's the basics that get things done in this world.
So the next time you hear yourself uttering the words "restructuring,” paradigm shift,” "alternative scheduling" or any of the other glib catch phrase buzz words that are thrown about our profession these days, think of the "Dave" concept.
Get tough, go with the basics and score. Let's let teachers teach and administrators administrate in a sensible atmosphere. Let's start saying no to every new program that comes down the pike, enough is enough and there is only so much time. Let's start weeding our curricular gardens and streamlining our offerings to focus on what is going to prepare our young people for a better life regardless of their destination after high school.

All of us can benefit from the lessons learned from Kramer's Field, not just me.

— Tom Stobie, President
Michigan Association of
Secondary School Principals