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.

Making a Statement

June 17, 2015

Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.

With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”

The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...

  • We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.


  • We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.


  • We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.


  • And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.


The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.