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.

The Antidote

October 17, 2014

On average, according to the New York Times, the 32 National Football League teams have had 22 player arrests per team since 2000. And mounting.

This horrifying statistic doesn’t even include one team’s bounty-payment scheme to injure opposing players. It doesn’t include league-imposed suspensions for use of drugs.

So it doesn’t surprise me that the NFL’s corporate sponsors have begun to express concerns for their brand reputation. It’s only surprising that their concerns have been so slow in coming.

And it’s especially surprising that those who work at lower levels of sports don’t give up.

To the contrary, those who have devoted their lives to educational athletics demonstrate by their devotion to school-sponsored sports that they still believe – in spite of mounting evidence at major college and professional sports levels – that athletes can break records without having criminal records and that they can achieve championships without chemicals.

Coaches and administrators of school sports – my heroes – demonstrate daily by their continuing commitment of service to school sports that they still believe athletics can coexist with integrity and can nurture better character, not just crazy characters.

Under the radar, in communities across Michigan and the nation, school-based competitive athletic programs are doing good things for students, schools and society. This is the antidote for the cynicism creeping across the landscape of high-profile intercollegiate and professional sports.