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Classification Caution

January 25, 2012

The classification of schools on the basis of enrollment for statewide high school athletic tournaments appears to have been born in Michigan in the early 1900s.  Since then, there have been two irrepressible trends.

First, tournaments with multiple classifications have spread to every state.  And second, the number of classifications expanded in each sport.  In other words, once classification begins, requests for more classes or divisions never end.

One can speculate as to the reasons why people request more classes or divisions, but some results of expanding classification do not require any guesswork.  For example:

  • If the MHSAA Basketball or Volleyball Tournaments were expanded from four to six classifications or divisions, as some people suggest, it would require another day or separate venues for Semifinals, and the Finals would have to begin at 8 a.m. and would end near midnight.
  • If the MHSAA Football Playoffs were expanded from eight to ten divisions, as some people suggest, it would require scheduling the first Final game at 8 a.m. each day, and we would anticipate ending after midnight both days.


More divisions means longer travel and later weeknights for teams and their spectators at Districts and Regionals, and longer days with absurdly early starts and late finishes at the Finals.

Classifying tournaments on the basis of enrollment is a good thing.  But like many other good things, it is possible to get too much of it.

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.