No Super-Sizing Needed
March 23, 2013
Airline travel today presents a confusing array of frequent flyer and credit card loyalty programs: Premier Access; Silver, Gold or Platinum Elite; etc. They allow a traveler to check bags without cost, visit airline club rooms free of charge, and board planes ahead of the rest of the herd.
The problem is that the airlines have established so many levels of elitism that the result is a confusing, meaningless mess. Which reminds me of other efforts to distinguish good, better and best, especially in youth sports.
In basketball, ice hockey, soccer, volleyball and other youth sports there are now so many programs that promote themselves as more elite than others, and so many tournaments that advertise themselves to be above others in terms of status or the presence of college recruiters, that the efforts to distinguish themselves are not at all meaningful, and almost laughable if they were not fooling and fleecing so many children and parents.
In contrast, school sports is not engaged in the never-ending addiction to add layers of competitions and levels of championships. We are just fine with league, district, regional and statewide tournaments and trophies. We do not need national-scope tournaments and all-star events.
In school sports, the titles don’t need super-sizing, and the trophies don’t need to be taller than the participants.
Fixing Things
October 6, 2011
Leaders of schools and school sports have rarely been asked to do more with less than is demanded of them today. Their plight has brought back to my memory that many years ago, a pastor from North Carolina, Stephen M. Crotts, told this story – one that I’ve kept in my files, and in my heart, ever since. He said:
I started my ministry in Charlotte County, Virginia. And there was a deacon in the church there named Harvey Milton who ran a seed and feed store in Drakes Branch. Harvey and his wife Margaret sort of adopted me and helped me along during those first tentative years of the ministry.
I remember one day after I’d been there nearly three years. I was struggling with trying to do too much, trying to keep everybody happy, trying to fix all the hurts.
I stopped by to see Harvey at his business and found him hunched over the back door replacing a broken hinge.
“What are you doing?” I politely inquired.
“Well, Stephen,” Harvey intoned, “there are four kinds of broken things in this world. There are those things that are broken that if you just leave them alone they’ll fix themselves. Then there are those things that are broken that are none of my business. It’s up to somebody else to fix it. Then there are those things that are broken that only God can fix. And finally, there are those things that are broken that can be fixed and it’s my job to do it. And this door is one of them. And that’s what I’m doing . . . fixing this door.”
Stephen finished by saying this: “When urgent calls, opportunities, pressure, criticism and thoughts of all I could be doing come, those words help me sort my duty.”
Perhaps those words will help you too.