Fantasy Land
March 8, 2013
Advocating at the national level for unachievable ideals not only diminishes the importance of those achieving reasonable accomplishments at the grassroots level, it also threatens the future of organized sports for the masses; and few organizations in a position to know better are doing as much to create these unintended consequences as the National Athletic Trainers Association.
It is a NATA-driven “Youth Sports Safety Alliance” that has developed a six-page manifesto for youth sports, including NATA’s “Secondary School Student Athletes’ Bill of Rights” which is mostly beyond the means of youth sports sponsors, and has marched to Capitol Hill to urge the federal legislature’s action to pursue those goals, among which is the conveniently unstated objective of advancing job opportunities and security for athletic trainers themselves.
MHSAA surveys indicate that, conservatively, fewer than 20 percent of Michigan high schools and junior high/middle schools have a full-time certified athletic trainer on staff. In fact, only a minority of schools think such a full-time position is necessary, given other cheaper options available to them in the form of contracted services of medical groups and the volunteered services of many other medical professionals. An even smaller minority has the means to pay for a full-time certified athletic trainer, given all the cuts in state aid to schools; and many schools – urban, suburban, rural and remote – wonder where in their communities they would find a certified athletic trainer if such were mandated everywhere.
NATA’s earlier recommendations in the extreme for acclimatization of players at the start of the football season have already resulted in a state law in Maryland that football coaches there criticize for leading to a less safe sport now that they have less time to teach technique and prepare players for first-game contact. In theory, NATA’s notions are nice ideas; but in practice, they are less safe for the participants. And anything that is less safe for the participants not only endangers today’s players, it also jeopardizes the future of the game. Which, by the way, does nothing to enhance employment opportunities for trainers.
Dad's Day
April 23, 2012
Today is my father’s 92nd birthday.
Until my wife replaced Dad as my best friend, he doubled as both my best friend and father.
Dad has been inducted into 13 halls of fame nationally, and in Iowa where he was a two-time undefeated state high school wrestling champion, and in Wisconsin where he was a two-time Big Ten wrestling champion for the Badgers before a stellar career as high school and college coach, especially in football and wrestling. All that before his 29½ year tenure as executive director of the Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association.
For two decades Dad chaired the national high school wrestling rules committee, and he traveled nationwide to conduct wrestling rules meetings for coaches and officials in states where local expertise in the sport had not yet developed. It is not a stretch to call him the father of high school wrestling. Certainly no person had greater influence than he during the sport’s formative years on the high school level.
And no person had more influence over my formative years.
So it is becoming increasingly painful to observe my father falter, as all people do who live as long as he has. Simple tasks require an increasing amount of assistance; significant talks fill a decreasing amount of our time. It is agonizing to one who has adored him.
When Dad served the WIAA, his sharp mind and strong voice would make him a top choice to address the toughest topics at National Federation meetings. He received the National Federation’s Award of Merit and is a member of its Hall of Fame.
But perhaps the most meaningful memory I have of Dad’s professional life occurred at his retirement event in late 1985 when the person representing the state’s coaches said this: “John. We may not have agreed with your every decision, but we never once questioned your motives.” There can be no higher praise.