Official Treatment
March 7, 2014
A book I quoted in this space three times last November – How: Why HOW We Do Anything Means Everything by Dov Seidman – has me thinking about sports officiating.
One premise of the book is that the Internet era has made the world so transparent and connected that there is no such thing anymore as “private” behavior or a “minor” mistake. Everything can become a public matter – instantly. Anything can become a major problem – overnight. Worldwide.
So, when our local real estate agent, who officiates junior varsity basketball, misses a call that an invested spectator captures with his or her smart phone camera, and sends to his or her relatives and a local media outlet that night, there is no limit to where that video could appear by the next morning.
And while major college and professional officials may now receive four-figure fees to work under those conditions, officials at the junior high/middle school and high school levels – sometimes working for little more than gas money - wonder if it’s worth the hassle.
There are many obstacles to recruiting and retaining officials for school sports, including poor business practices by assigners and bad sportsmanship by coaches and spectators; but a significant factor not to be overlooked is the adverse potential of immediate worldwide criticism for a call that had to be made in the blink of an eye.
The human factor of sports is now subject to inhuman expectations. In an enterprise that strives for fairness, it appears that it’s the official who is being treated least fairly.
Fresh Air
June 30, 2014
On well over 300 of every 365 days each year I take a brisk early morning walk. One of the many things I’ve noticed over the years is how the smell of the exhaust of even a single passing automobile will stale the fresh air for several minutes after the vehicle is out of sight.
I’ve often thought there was a metaphor here that I could use in commenting on school sports; and my recent reading of Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief gave shape to that thought when the novel’s central character said:
“. . . when we came to intersections, we would have to stop and then the blue whiteness of the exhaust would overtake us. We could see it and smell it. We thought we had left it behind us somewhere back on the road, but when we slowed down, it seemed to overtake and surround us.”
What we have in school sports that none of the so-called more “prestigious” brands of sports offer is fresh air. Purity. Wholesomeness.
This is our trump card, our ace-in-the-hole.
We lack the resources to compete on a marketing or promotional level with college and professional sports; and we look foolish and waste resources when we try.
But when we focus on local rivalries between nearby opponents – complete with pep bands and marching bands, fully-clad cheerleaders, pep assemblies, letter jackets and Homecoming parades and dances – we play to our strength. We’re local, amateur and just a touch corny. Charming is a better word.
As we travel in this direction, the air is clean and fresh. As we slow or even stop at the intersection of other choices, we will smell the foulness in the air and know immediately that the only course for educational athletics is the road we’re already on.