Interruptions
November 23, 2011
I know many of us crave the opportunity to work without distractions and to focus on a problem or project without interruptions. It’s why I seek a week alone at my cottage to read, write and rehearse. It’s my “sabbatical.”
But having said that about the significant benefits of solitude, I nevertheless must state that the sixth and final lesson in this series of blogs is this: The job is the interruptions.
I brought this lesson to the MHSAA from previous employment and it resonates truer today than ever.
The job is the call from the athletic director, coach or official who has a question. The job is the call from the superintendent, principal or parent with a concern.
The job is the knock on the door from another staff member with a difficult question from a constituent, or even a personal issue that’s important to them.
It’s often been when I’ve treated the call or knock as nuisance, given it inadequate time or attention, that the little interruption grew into a bigger problem.
The job is the interruptions. If there were none, we wouldn’t be needed. There would be no job.
Dad's Day
April 23, 2012
Today is my father’s 92nd birthday.
Until my wife replaced Dad as my best friend, he doubled as both my best friend and father.
Dad has been inducted into 13 halls of fame nationally, and in Iowa where he was a two-time undefeated state high school wrestling champion, and in Wisconsin where he was a two-time Big Ten wrestling champion for the Badgers before a stellar career as high school and college coach, especially in football and wrestling. All that before his 29½ year tenure as executive director of the Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association.
For two decades Dad chaired the national high school wrestling rules committee, and he traveled nationwide to conduct wrestling rules meetings for coaches and officials in states where local expertise in the sport had not yet developed. It is not a stretch to call him the father of high school wrestling. Certainly no person had greater influence than he during the sport’s formative years on the high school level.
And no person had more influence over my formative years.
So it is becoming increasingly painful to observe my father falter, as all people do who live as long as he has. Simple tasks require an increasing amount of assistance; significant talks fill a decreasing amount of our time. It is agonizing to one who has adored him.
When Dad served the WIAA, his sharp mind and strong voice would make him a top choice to address the toughest topics at National Federation meetings. He received the National Federation’s Award of Merit and is a member of its Hall of Fame.
But perhaps the most meaningful memory I have of Dad’s professional life occurred at his retirement event in late 1985 when the person representing the state’s coaches said this: “John. We may not have agreed with your every decision, but we never once questioned your motives.” There can be no higher praise.