Cutting Kids
September 25, 2012
As an athlete, I dreaded the days. Even when I was a returning starter, I approached with anxiety the page taped to the locker room door that would indicate who made the high school basketball team (and, by omission, who didn’t).
As a coach, I refused to do it. I wasn’t even tempted to cut anybody from my squads. But I was lucky. I coached football and golf, and the outdoor practice venues gave us enough room for almost limitless opportunities.
As a parent, I’ve cried over it. Watching my older son be cut from a non-school basketball program for junior high boys (he switched to wrestling in high school and had a fine career). Watching my younger son be cut four times from the travel soccer team (he made it on the fifth try and started for his high school freshman and junior varsity soccer teams during the two years after that).
At no time have I been more deeply troubled and saddened than watching the world of sports, to which I devote my working life, say, “No thank you” to my sons, to whom I dedicated my entire life.
As an administrator, I grieve over the process every year. I listen to complaints of parents. I watch them go from allies to enemies of high school sports.
Why would we limit squad sizes for outdoor sports?
Why would we cut freshmen who haven’t even matured yet and have only a little idea what they might like or be good at?
Why would we not find room for a senior who has been on the team for three years and continues to have a good attitude and work ethic?
Why would we turn away eligible boys and girls who would rather work and sweat after school than cruise and loiter?
Why do we persist in shutting out and turning against us the parents who would be our advocates today and the students who would be our advocates in the future?
Show of Hands
July 12, 2017
Four dozen years ago, my boss, the executive director of the National Federation of State High School Associations, expressed to me his disappointment that one of the characteristics of NFHS national meetings was the much too frequent “show of hands.” That is, someone from one state would rise to ask for a show of hands on a topic: “How many states do this? ... How many states don’t? ... How many do that?”
My mentor’s point was that the time would be much better spent on a qualitative analysis of the topic, rather than a quantitative one ... a discussion of the merits of a particular policy or procedure, rather than a head count.
His message to me is recalled every time a proposal comes to the Michigan High School Athletic Association to change this or that policy and is accompanied by the meager rationale that it’s what 25 or 35 or 45 other states might do. That stat holds only mild interest for me.
Before we do anything here to be like anybody elsewhere, we need to measure the pros and cons in our place and time ... how it fits our culture or our climate, for example.
When we consider change in the start or end of seasons; or the number of interscholastic scrimmages or contests in a day, week or season; or the number of exceptions to the transfer rule or the length of ineligibility when no exception applies; or the number of classes or divisions for tournaments; or the existence or extent of seeding for a tournament; when we consider any of these things in Michigan, we need much better rationale than a show of hands.