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.

Change for Worse

November 25, 2014

I recall a toaster that was handed down from my parents when my wife and I were first married and in need of everything. It was already an antique, but it worked just fine, popping nicely browned bread with efficiency.

Some years later, we handed that toaster down to another generation; and we have missed its iconic look and quick, quality performance. No toaster we’ve had since has matched that model.

Recently we purchased a new dishwasher to replace one that was at least 25 years old. The new appliance is advertised as more energy efficient, with the features now required by the government in order to be more environmentally friendly. But the fact is, it runs twice as long and works half as well, often requiring a second wash to adequately clean the dishes.

You would think these earlier disappointments would have taught us; but even more recently we purchased a new washer and new dryer . . . energy efficient, of course . . . with all the required environmental improvements included. But again, the washer runs twice as long as the model it replaced. The dryer does too, and the clothes remain damp after repeating the maximum drying time . . . twice.

All of which proves the point that change is not always good.

People who proclaim that the world is changing and that we must change too are not always on the higher ground. Change is as often bad as it is good; and change often needs to be confronted, and thwarted.

Much of the change that has come to our homes has not improved our daily lives. Much of the change that has come to our schools has not improved the quality of education our children receive. Much of the change that has come to school sports has done much to harm and little to help educational athletics.

We must ignore the hype and point out the pitfalls of the shiny new products and promotions. Saying “No” to change is sometimes the boldest and best leadership we can provide for school-sponsored sports.