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.
The Best Coach Ever
February 5, 2013
In the fall of 2004, another of the inductees with my father to the first-ever Hall of Fame Class of Stevens Point (WI) Area Senior High School was Rick Reichardt, arguably the best male athlete the community ever produced. Rick played four sports in high school, both football and baseball at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, and on two Major League Baseball teams.
In his own acceptance speech that evening in 2004, Rick said that my dad was the best coach he ever had. Well, Dad was merely Rick’s Little League baseball coach.
That’s remarkable in and of itself. What’s more remarkable is that Dad never played organized baseball. He never developed the skills of the game. Yet Rick said Dad was his best coach ever.
Eventually, I’ve figured out Dad’s “secret of success.” Dad didn’t coach a sport. He coached people.
Our just-published winter issue of benchmarks is devoted to coaches like this and to the coaching profession. Read it here.