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?

Winning

December 26, 2012

If you and I were playing a game of, let’s say, a game of tennis, and I don’t try to win, and you defeat me, I’ve cheapened your victory.  And in cheapening your victory, I’ve been a poor sport.

Trying to win is a good thing.  Trying to win is a goal of school sports.  Trying in the best way, that is:  within the rules, with all our effort, and with grace, regardless of the outcome.

The most satisfying victory we can have in sports is defeating our best opponent on our opponent’s best day.

The least satisfying victory is against a weak opponent, or as a result of an opponent’s mistake, or an official’s bad call, or – worst of all – by our own cheating.

You want your best opponent on their best day.  You feel the best when you defeat the best, playing their best.

That’s ecstasy in sports.  There is no better feeling in sports.

Don’t mistake anything I ever write to mean I don’t care about winning.  I really do.  And I care that it has real value.