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.
Controlled Fires
July 24, 2012
Forest fires have recently been scorching the United States with unusual reach and rage. Infernos in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, as well as Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, South Dakota, Utah and Wyoming, have made news in our state.
Behind the headlines of the lightning-ignited 150-square-mile devastation near Fort Collins, Colorado is the analysis of forestry and conservation experts that it has been the absence of small fires that has helped to fuel the large fire. Turns out that Smokey the Bear’s campaign to prevent forest fires may be partly at fault.
In most of life, little problems here and there help to avoid larger problems later. The little fires consume the fuel that would feed a catastrophic conflagration exploding out of pent-up fears or frustrations or long-festering problems.
Even those who work in the “prevention business” – whether that’s the US Forest Service or a statewide athletic association – must tolerate a few fires. They can have positive, productive effects, one of which is to keep small problems from growing large and more destructive.