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?

“Just A Spectator”

July 6, 2016

I have often employed one of two strategies for my attendance at MHSAA tournaments.

The one I have used least frequently is to stand where spectators enter and welcome them or, after the events, position myself at exits and thank spectators for attending. I’m an introvert, so this doesn’t come naturally and I don’t do this often, even though I’m gratified by receiving a “Thank You” from nearly every spectator who responds.

The strategy I have used more often is to be “just a spectator” – to stand in line to purchase a ticket, find my unreserved seat and listen to the people around me – folks I don’t know and who don’t know me. I’m more comfortable with this anonymous undercover approach, and I tend to learn more.

I learn that there is a general appreciation for the differences between school-sponsored sports and sports on all other levels by all other sponsors.

The spectators appreciate the inexpensive admission prices, but they complain about the cost of concessions at the college and professional venues in comparison to the school venues which host MHSAA tournaments.

I see that, generally, girls compete with more obvious joy than boys. I see that injuries are few; but, when they occur, they are taken seriously and attended to professionally. I see that the players exhibit better sportsmanship than anyone else at the venue.

The spectators expect and generally accept that mistakes will be made – by players, coaches and officials. They are hardest on officials; but many parents are hard on players, coaches and officials alike. I find this the most discouraging aspect of attending high school athletic events, which otherwise re-energizes me for the MHSAA’s work.

And I see that the MHSAA has much work to do, and that our work of the past several years to enhance the spectator experience is important, and that our work is far from finished – not just at our most high profile finals, but also (maybe especially) at lower profile championships and earlier round tournaments of many sports. This is a priority for which the MHSAA is getting more help in 2016-17 – engaging professional expertise to enhance our amateur events.