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Fresh Air

June 30, 2014

On well over 300 of every 365 days each year I take a brisk early morning walk. One of the many things I’ve noticed over the years is how the smell of the exhaust of even a single passing automobile will stale the fresh air for several minutes after the vehicle is out of sight. 

I’ve often thought there was a metaphor here that I could use in commenting on school sports; and my recent reading of Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief gave shape to that thought when the novel’s central character said:

“. . . when we came to intersections, we would have to stop and then the blue whiteness of the exhaust would overtake us. We could see it and smell it. We thought we had left it behind us somewhere back on the road, but when we slowed down, it seemed to overtake and surround us.” 

What we have in school sports that none of the so-called more “prestigious” brands of sports offer is fresh air. Purity. Wholesomeness.

This is our trump card, our ace-in-the-hole. 

We lack the resources to compete on a marketing or promotional level with college and professional sports; and we look foolish and waste resources when we try.

But when we focus on local rivalries between nearby opponents – complete with pep bands and marching bands, fully-clad cheerleaders, pep assemblies, letter jackets and Homecoming parades and dances – we play to our strength. We’re local, amateur and just a touch corny. Charming is a better word.

As we travel in this direction, the air is clean and fresh. As we slow or even stop at the intersection of other choices, we will smell the foulness in the air and know immediately that the only course for educational athletics is the road we’re already on.

The Old Is New Again

October 23, 2015

In the hidden back reaches of my closet at home I’ve kept some ties, suits and pants I have not worn for many years, forgotten as I purchased or was given newer and more fashionable clothes. Needing space, and heeding my wife’s suggestion that it was time to donate what I never wear, I gave my wife a fashion show of my long-neglected wardrobe. I wanted her help to decide what to discard.

Some of the items I modeled brought back memories of happy times, like weddings and reunions; others of sadder times, like funerals. Some items were laughably out of style. But, surprisingly, some of the oldest items looked the best ... almost as good as the most recent additions to my wardrobe. They were, in fact, back in fashion.

This caused me to recall that some of the discarded policies of educational athletics are working their way back in fashion.  For example …

  • For many years, even after many states changed their rules, the MHSAA was criticized for prohibiting member schools’ students from wearing full equipment at and participating in the full-contact summer football camps of universities and commercial organizations. Now, with greater attention to improving acclimatization and reducing head contact in football, other states are returning to the policies we never discarded: contact-free out-of-season football camps and clinics.

  • Equally “dishonored” by those who believe there is never too much of a good thing have been MHSAA rules that limit the number of contests and the distance of travel. After years of more and more of everything, the new normal of severely limited school sports budgets makes our modest schedules more virtuous than ever.

  • For many years, MHSAA policy has stood apart from most states by limiting students to competing in only one level of a sport in a single day … no JV and varsity in the same day, no fifth or sixth quarter rule. Now, with even greater attention to reducing head and overuse injuries and other student health and safety issues, our rules look both protective and progressive, not overly restrictive.

If a man waits long enough, even his narrowest tie or widest lapel will be back in fashion; so what makes me cling to old clothes also makes me think twice about changing established rules. It is just as difficult to restore a discarded rule as it is to wear a discarded jacket.

It’s always easier to relax a policy than to restore it when we rediscover we need it.