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Baloney

January 27, 2015

When I was in high school and college I worked a different job each summer, usually looking for hard labor that would help prepare my body for the next football season, and each time confirming that it would not be my choice for lifetime employment. One summer I worked at a lumber yard and paper mill complex along the banks of the Wisconsin River.

Every day I ate lunch with the men who had made this their life’s work; and I grew in ways both positive and negative as I listened to their conversations and tales. We all brought our own lunch pails.

One day, one of the more veteran employees opened his lunchbox and flew into a rage. “I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “Baloney again! I hate baloney.”

Trying to calm him down, another worker said, “If you hate baloney so much, just ask your wife to make you something else.”

To which the complainer replied, “That won’t work. I make my own lunches,” which resulted in an uproar of laughter from the rest of us.

I thought of this incident recently as I was preparing to meet with constituents about the rules they most love to hate: policies relating to coach and player contact out of season. Those are our most criticized rules.

But it occurs to me, if we don’t like the sandwich we’re eating – out-of-season coaching rules – we should remember: we made them ourselves, and we can change them. In fact, no one is in a better position to do so than we are. And no one has a greater duty to do so than we have, if we really are in need of a new recipe.

“Just A Spectator”

July 6, 2016

I have often employed one of two strategies for my attendance at MHSAA tournaments.

The one I have used least frequently is to stand where spectators enter and welcome them or, after the events, position myself at exits and thank spectators for attending. I’m an introvert, so this doesn’t come naturally and I don’t do this often, even though I’m gratified by receiving a “Thank You” from nearly every spectator who responds.

The strategy I have used more often is to be “just a spectator” – to stand in line to purchase a ticket, find my unreserved seat and listen to the people around me – folks I don’t know and who don’t know me. I’m more comfortable with this anonymous undercover approach, and I tend to learn more.

I learn that there is a general appreciation for the differences between school-sponsored sports and sports on all other levels by all other sponsors.

The spectators appreciate the inexpensive admission prices, but they complain about the cost of concessions at the college and professional venues in comparison to the school venues which host MHSAA tournaments.

I see that, generally, girls compete with more obvious joy than boys. I see that injuries are few; but, when they occur, they are taken seriously and attended to professionally. I see that the players exhibit better sportsmanship than anyone else at the venue.

The spectators expect and generally accept that mistakes will be made – by players, coaches and officials. They are hardest on officials; but many parents are hard on players, coaches and officials alike. I find this the most discouraging aspect of attending high school athletic events, which otherwise re-energizes me for the MHSAA’s work.

And I see that the MHSAA has much work to do, and that our work of the past several years to enhance the spectator experience is important, and that our work is far from finished – not just at our most high profile finals, but also (maybe especially) at lower profile championships and earlier round tournaments of many sports. This is a priority for which the MHSAA is getting more help in 2016-17 – engaging professional expertise to enhance our amateur events.