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.
Football Antics
November 7, 2017
The National Football League was sometimes criticized for being the “No Fun League” when it enforced rules that tended to discourage sack dances and end zone prances by its players. Recent relaxation of the NFL’s rules of decorum has brought a return of ridiculous behaviors.
Not only are the behaviors immature, they are usually inappropriate for circumstances. A defensive lineman whose team is trailing by three touchdowns celebrates a rare tackle for a loss by marching around and pounding his chest. A running back whose team is behind by four touchdowns draws attention to a first down by strutting and pointing toward the goal line. A player who scores a touchdown celebrates like he’s never reached the end zone before.
Such behavior is penalized at lower levels. Why is it that the oldest players are allowed to act most childishly?
Attending our high school football games – watching players hand the ball to the official rather than spike it to the ground and dance all around after scoring – has been refreshing. Watching players return to their team huddles without drawing attention to themselves has been reassuring.
Our games are teaching respect and civility and team spirit at a time when America is in desperate need of those values.