Criticism

October 18, 2011

The phrase “throw in the towel” comes from the sport of boxing.  It recalls a manager throwing a towel into the ring to stop a bout in which his boxer is getting badly beaten.

Over the years I watched a lot of administrators of schools and school sports throw in the towel as they’ve watched their ideas and ideals get bruised and battered, and as they suffered constant and frequently unfair criticism.

Criticism is a fickle thing.  It can be motivating or maddening.  To some people criticism is one or the other; to other people criticism sometimes has a positive effect, sometimes the opposite.

Criticism from a well-informed source who has tried to see the matter from multiple perspectives and who delivers the opinion privately will almost always have two positive effects.  First, it will influence future thought processes and decisions.  Second, it will establish a closer relationship – even a good friendship – between the parties.

It is criticism based on bad information or from a biased viewpoint delivered by gossip or in group settings that is least productive to the cause and most poisonous to the community.

But even bad news badly delivered can be motivating.  While sometimes it may give rise to brief thoughts of “why bother?”, it more often motivates me to work harder, to serve better, to think wider and deeper, and to give more.  This reaction is a result of many life experiences, including school and college sports participation.

Those of us who played competitive athletics were subject to much criticism throughout our playing careers.  Sometimes it was unfair, and we learned to rise above it.  But usually the criticism was from a coach who knew his or her stuff, who thought we could do better, and who was giving us the information to become better.  While some people merely survive criticism, competitive athletics can teach us how to thrive on it.

Fresh Air

June 30, 2014

On well over 300 of every 365 days each year I take a brisk early morning walk. One of the many things I’ve noticed over the years is how the smell of the exhaust of even a single passing automobile will stale the fresh air for several minutes after the vehicle is out of sight. 

I’ve often thought there was a metaphor here that I could use in commenting on school sports; and my recent reading of Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief gave shape to that thought when the novel’s central character said:

“. . . when we came to intersections, we would have to stop and then the blue whiteness of the exhaust would overtake us. We could see it and smell it. We thought we had left it behind us somewhere back on the road, but when we slowed down, it seemed to overtake and surround us.” 

What we have in school sports that none of the so-called more “prestigious” brands of sports offer is fresh air. Purity. Wholesomeness.

This is our trump card, our ace-in-the-hole. 

We lack the resources to compete on a marketing or promotional level with college and professional sports; and we look foolish and waste resources when we try.

But when we focus on local rivalries between nearby opponents – complete with pep bands and marching bands, fully-clad cheerleaders, pep assemblies, letter jackets and Homecoming parades and dances – we play to our strength. We’re local, amateur and just a touch corny. Charming is a better word.

As we travel in this direction, the air is clean and fresh. As we slow or even stop at the intersection of other choices, we will smell the foulness in the air and know immediately that the only course for educational athletics is the road we’re already on.