The Needle

March 2, 2012

Jordan Cobb is one of the MHSAA’s superbly talented staff members; and one of his many duties may intrigue you.

Jordan watches “the needle.” 

The “chartbeat” needle tells us, at any moment, how many visitors we have to MHSAA.com.  It even tells us what page they’re viewing on MHSAA.com, how they got there, and where they’re located in the world.

Not so long ago, Jordan would fret on a Friday night in the fall that our servers did not have the capacity to handle all those looking for game scores.  Through lots of creative programming and work-arounds, and an in-house eight-unit “server farm” that shifts and spreads loads to accommodate peak demands, Jordan now watches the needle more in wonder than with worry.

On most Friday nights during the fall and winter, and for the entire months of November and March, MHSAA.com is among the one percent most visited U.S. websites – on any topic, not just sports.

Even on a quiet weekday afternoon, there will at all times be one to two hundred viewers navigating MHSAA.com.

A decade or two ago, the MHSAA office would not receive two hundred telephone calls per day or two hundred letters per week.  Now, every second of the workday and long into the evening and all weekend long, one hundred to one thousand people or more are making contact with the MHSAA at MHSAA.com.

So MHSAA.com deserves our attention and resources.  It is creating first and lasting impressions.  It is branding us, and doing so far beyond the walls of schools and the borders of our state.

Most importantly, it is demonstrating what we value.  It is conveying messages about who we are, what we do and what we believe.  And providing a stark contrast to who we are not and what we don’t do and don’t believe.

A Different Language

January 16, 2015

Every other year my wife and I are able to spend the December holidays with our son and his wife who are international school educators, but we must journey to the other side of the world to make that happen. In crossing both the international dateline and the equator to see them in Australia last month, I learned a helpful lesson for those of us who try to communicate about school sports.

For two weeks I attempted to be a follower of Australia's "national pastime" -- cricket -- but try as I might, I could not grasp a passable understanding of the sport. On the surface, cricket seems a lot like baseball; but there are far more differences than similarities to the sport many North, Central and Latin Americans grew up with and know so well. I watched cricket on television and read the extensive newspaper coverage every day; but even after studying the rules and listening to and questioning a local expert, even the most basic rules, strategies and language of cricket remain mysteries to me.  

For a while at least, my struggle with cricket may make me more understanding of some parents and others who are so quick to criticize high school sports. Possibly I’ll be more purposeful and patient to explain our policies and the philosophies behind them.

Many of today's parents and spectators have never played the sports their children now play. They don't really know the rules and strategies of the games that were not a part of their upbringing, and they tend to be more unreasonably critical of decisions by coaches and officials in those sports.

Competitive cheer, gymnastics, lacrosse, ice hockey, soccer and other sports seem "foreign" to those who never played those sports. But it's true that in all sports we are likely to experience the most criticism, and the most unjustifiable complaints, where there is the least understanding or appreciation. That's true of a particular sport’s playing rules, and it's also true of the policies and procedures that govern all school sports. And in both cases, this demands extra effort on the part of coaches and administrators to communicate the rules and the reason for those rules.