An Easy Call
April 6, 2016
A few people of limited perspective blame the MHSAA for the loss by MSU’s women’s basketball team in the NCAA tournament last month on our refusing to shuffle off the Michigan Girls High School Basketball Semifinals and Finals to some other time or place.
It wasn’t a bad call in Michigan that caused MSU’s loss in Mississippi. It wasn’t even a tough call for us; it was the only call.
No way would we dash the dreams of 16 teams or even diminish the experience of coaches, players, parents and spectators surrounding those 16 deserving girls high school basketball programs.
No way would we damage relationships with vendors, broadcasters and sponsors who have expectations of, or even legally binding agreements for, a certain event, on certain dates, at a certain site.
The NCAA has changed the format of its women’s tournament frequently, and it may change its policies and procedures again before next March, or before the contract expires for the MHSAA’s Girls and Boys Basketball Semifinals and Finals at MSU following the 2017 tournaments. So we are not in a panic about future tournaments.
We hope to keep the MHSAA girls and boys tournaments together; and we are confident both MSU and the greater Lansing community see the significant benefits of hosting these events.
Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.