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.
An Athlete’s Father
December 16, 2014
My father died two years ago today. His life was filled with extraordinary success as an athlete and coach and was complimented with countless accolades as an administrator. But what he was best at was being a father.
He was especially adept – instinctively, not by any book of instruction – at being an athlete’s father.
The only unsolicited advice I can ever remember him offering me was to “stay tense through the whistle” on the football field, believing a player was most at risk of injury when letting down in anticipation that the play was ending.
Dad never critiqued my play or criticized the coach’s play-calling. If there was ever a parent who had earned the privilege of hovering, it was he; but he never did.
Dad understood that most people need praise more than a push, and approval more than advice. As an athlete’s father, he was perfect.