In An Instant
August 4, 2015
The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.
My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.
Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.
What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.
A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.
I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.
We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.
Mixed Messages
November 27, 2013
One of the very few enjoyable aspects of waiting in an airport is the guiltless time it allows me to visit its bookstores and page slowly through some of the old classics I vaguely remember and the new releases I can’t wait to read.
Two months ago in one of the terminals of Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, my attention went quickly to a prominent display of books about football. Five titles were mostly critical of the game, focusing on the sport at the major college and professional levels. Down at the bottom of the display was one title that addressed the positive value of football to students, schools and communities.
One month ago, while I was eating breakfast, the television news reported on the results of new research about youth concussions. While the narration mentioned multiple sports, the video was mostly of football. I saw that story repeated on another television channel that evening. I wondered, how many times on how many channels did how many people get this gift of the latest youth concussion statistics for all sports presented in football-only wrapping paper?
The public is getting mixed messages about school-sponsored football. The problem of college and professional football is not the problem of school-sponsored football. And what problems of head trauma that do exist in school sports are not exclusively problems of football.
In fact, school-sponsored football has never been freer of serious injury than it is today – that’s true whether we are talking about heads, necks, knees or nicks. It’s the result of the most careful and cautious rules making, coaching and officiating ever. And it’s safer – not less so – as we ever more quickly assess and refer injuries to ever more educated and capable health care professionals.