Fundamentals vs. Fads
July 9, 2013
During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Aug. 9, 2011.
While examining some ancient fabrics at the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo, Norway, my wife explained to me the “warp and weft” of weaving – how the vertical fibers are the warp and the horizontal fibers are the weft.
What intrigued me about the ancient remnants was that the vertical fibers of wool had survived the centuries so much better than the left-to-right-fibers of linen and silk. I was informed that the vertical fibers (the warp) gave the fabric its durability, while the horizontal fibers (the weft) provided the design. And the strength lasted long after the color had faded.
My vacationing mind then jumped quickly across the ocean and centuries to my working preoccupation with the essentials of school-based sports. I reflected on how certain principles on which educational athletics are based have withstood challenge after challenge over time, even as some of the earlier features of school sports have faded.
This travel memory will serve as a reminder to me to focus on the fundamentals – on those core values of school sports that are essential and allow us to claim that the programs are educational – and to worry less about the superficial features that will inevitably change with the trends and fads over the years. Determining which is which – distinguishing fundamentals from fads – is one of the challenges the leaders of school sports must face.
The Limitation of Rules – Part 1
September 2, 2016
From the age of 10 to 20, my position as a baseball player was catcher. Sometime during that decade I was taught to return the ball to the pitcher with authority, with a snap throw from my ear, targeting the glove-side shoulder of the pitcher.
I caught every inning of every game, including doubleheaders. In those years, there was less concern than today for protecting the arms of pitchers, and there was no thought given to the throwing arms of catchers.
Today, the shoulder of my throwing arm is shot; I cannot throw a ball overhand with any force.
But here’s the thing. I didn’t ruin my throwing arm in youth and school baseball; I wrecked it as an adult doing silly things with a tennis ball on the beach with my teenage son. We had a blast for a summer afternoon, and I’ve paid for it the rest of my life.
The point of this brief baseball bio is to demonstrate an example of the limitations of rules.
We can identify dozens of risks to student-athletes and we can promulgate an equal number of rules to help them avoid injuries in our programs; but we cannot protect them against a lack of common sense in our programs or accidents in other aspects of their lives.
Even if we implement new rules to limit the number of pitches by a player, what good is that if, after reaching the limit, the pitcher and catcher switch positions? Do we need a rule to address that coaching decision too?
Do we need rules that prohibit large students from practicing against small, or experienced players from competing against inexperienced? How would we ever monitor or enforce such rules? Where do rules leave off and common sense take over?
Even if we put players in bubble wrap for sports, what do we do about their decisions away from sports, perhaps in vehicles, with their friends and their cell phones? Where do laws and rules stop, and personal responsibility start?