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.
Football Antics
November 7, 2017
The National Football League was sometimes criticized for being the “No Fun League” when it enforced rules that tended to discourage sack dances and end zone prances by its players. Recent relaxation of the NFL’s rules of decorum has brought a return of ridiculous behaviors.
Not only are the behaviors immature, they are usually inappropriate for circumstances. A defensive lineman whose team is trailing by three touchdowns celebrates a rare tackle for a loss by marching around and pounding his chest. A running back whose team is behind by four touchdowns draws attention to a first down by strutting and pointing toward the goal line. A player who scores a touchdown celebrates like he’s never reached the end zone before.
Such behavior is penalized at lower levels. Why is it that the oldest players are allowed to act most childishly?
Attending our high school football games – watching players hand the ball to the official rather than spike it to the ground and dance all around after scoring – has been refreshing. Watching players return to their team huddles without drawing attention to themselves has been reassuring.
Our games are teaching respect and civility and team spirit at a time when America is in desperate need of those values.