One-Case Causes
August 27, 2013
One of the characteristics I look for in leaders is the ability and courage to ignore certain problems. To not get worked up about every little thing and even some bigger things. To stay focused on long-term goals and objectives in the midst of fad and frenzy. To distinguish the merely hot topics from the much more important topics.
“One-care causes” – projects or campaigns launched to address an isolated incident, even of high profile – can drain the resources and distract an organization from the larger and longer lasting issues that demand even more attention than we may be devoting to them.
We must not confuse one incident with a trend. We shouldn’t assume that an isolated situation demands an immediate solution, or that every single problem needs a top-down, systemic remedy.
Sometimes a problem – ineligibility, forfeit, unsportsmanlike act – really is limited to a particular student or school, or confined to a single coach, contest or community. And in those situations, leadership means leaving them alone and letting the matter be handled by people closer to those situations.
In An Instant
August 4, 2015
The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.
My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.
Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.
What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.
A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.
I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.
We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.