The Complete Job

August 28, 2015

The difference between the great painters, poets and photographers and the rest of us is that they actually did the work, all the way through to completion. The same can be said for the greatest athletes, coaches, officials, musicians and artists. They actually did the work.

One of our most accomplished contemporary writers is Ann Patchett, author of six novels and volumes of nonfiction. She has written: “You can be smart and have the most compelling story, but if you can’t make yourself sit down and block out the noise around you, then that story will remain forever in your head.” You have to actually do the work.

One of the most important roles of schools and the MHSAA is to tell the story of school sports. We have a compelling narrative full of value and values for students, schools and society. But the story won’t get told unless we do the work.

First and foremost, this means delivering a values and value-filled program by coaches and administrators at practices and events, season after season and day after day.

Only a fraction less important is conveying to school boards, the media and the public what’s going on ... telling our story through every means available: in person, in writing, through all forms of electronic media.

Over the decades, we have managed millions of practices and events; but that’s just part of the job. Completing the job means that we must also do the hard work of managing the message of school sports ... giving meaning to educational athletics, and explaining it. Our job is not over until we do.

An Athlete’s Father

December 16, 2014

My father died two years ago today. His life was filled with extraordinary success as an athlete and coach and was complimented with countless accolades as an administrator. But what he was best at was being a father.

He was especially adept – instinctively, not by any book of instruction – at being an athlete’s father.

The only unsolicited advice I can ever remember him offering me was to “stay tense through the whistle” on the football field, believing a player was most at risk of injury when letting down in anticipation that the play was ending.

Dad never critiqued my play or criticized the coach’s play-calling. If there was ever a parent who had earned the privilege of hovering, it was he; but he never did.

Dad understood that most people need praise more than a push, and approval more than advice. As an athlete’s father, he was perfect.