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.
Fixing Things
October 6, 2011
Leaders of schools and school sports have rarely been asked to do more with less than is demanded of them today. Their plight has brought back to my memory that many years ago, a pastor from North Carolina, Stephen M. Crotts, told this story – one that I’ve kept in my files, and in my heart, ever since. He said:
I started my ministry in Charlotte County, Virginia. And there was a deacon in the church there named Harvey Milton who ran a seed and feed store in Drakes Branch. Harvey and his wife Margaret sort of adopted me and helped me along during those first tentative years of the ministry.
I remember one day after I’d been there nearly three years. I was struggling with trying to do too much, trying to keep everybody happy, trying to fix all the hurts.
I stopped by to see Harvey at his business and found him hunched over the back door replacing a broken hinge.
“What are you doing?” I politely inquired.
“Well, Stephen,” Harvey intoned, “there are four kinds of broken things in this world. There are those things that are broken that if you just leave them alone they’ll fix themselves. Then there are those things that are broken that are none of my business. It’s up to somebody else to fix it. Then there are those things that are broken that only God can fix. And finally, there are those things that are broken that can be fixed and it’s my job to do it. And this door is one of them. And that’s what I’m doing . . . fixing this door.”
Stephen finished by saying this: “When urgent calls, opportunities, pressure, criticism and thoughts of all I could be doing come, those words help me sort my duty.”
Perhaps those words will help you too.