Our Narrative

November 21, 2011

Thomas Friedman – author of The World is Flat, From Beruit to Jerusalem and Hot, Flat and Crowded, among other major works – has a gift for converting complicated topics into moving narratives.  So I took note, during President Obama’s second year in office when, in a New York Times column, Mr. Friedman took the President to task for a communication gap.

Friedman wrote that the President doesn’t have a communications problem per se (in fact, he’s been one of our nation’s more articulate chief executives), and he has a good grasp of facts on many subjects.

What he has, according to Friedman, is a narrative problem.  “He has not tied all his programs into a single narrative that shows the links between his health care, banking, economic, energy, education and foreign policies.”  Without this, wrote Friedman, people do not see these are all “building blocks of a great national project.”

Regardless of one’s opinion of Mr. Obama as President and Mr. Friedman as pundit, those responsible for school sports should pause over this observation or opinion; should stop to consider how all the projects and programs we contemplate either do or do not help us tell the story of educational athletics in Michigan. 

The narrative for school sports can be compelling.  When and where programs maximize participation and promote high standards of eligibility, conduct and care; when and where programs demonstrate quality coaching and officiating; and when and where it can be demonstrated that the programs are not merely compatible with the educational mission of the school but actually improve attendance, raise GPAs and increase graduation rates; then and there we have a coordinated and convincing narrative.

Projects and programs that produce and promote these results will be the kind of building blocks that tell our story and should generate popular support for many more years to come.

Dad's Day

April 23, 2012

Today is my father’s 92nd birthday.

Until my wife replaced Dad as my best friend, he doubled as both my best friend and father.

Dad has been inducted into 13 halls of fame nationally, and in Iowa where he was a two-time undefeated state high school wrestling champion, and in Wisconsin where he was a two-time Big Ten wrestling champion for the Badgers before a stellar career as high school and college coach, especially in football and wrestling.  All that before his 29½ year tenure as executive director of the Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association.

For two decades Dad chaired the national high school wrestling rules committee, and he traveled nationwide to conduct wrestling rules meetings for coaches and officials in states where local expertise in the sport had not yet developed.  It is not a stretch to call him the father of high school wrestling.  Certainly no person had greater influence than he during the sport’s formative years on the high school level.

And no person had more influence over my formative years.

So it is becoming increasingly painful to observe my father falter, as all people do who live as long as he has. Simple tasks require an increasing amount of assistance; significant talks fill a decreasing amount of our time. It is agonizing to one who has adored him.

When Dad served the WIAA, his sharp mind and strong voice would make him a top choice to address the toughest topics at National Federation meetings.  He received the National Federation’s Award of Merit and is a member of its Hall of Fame.

But perhaps the most meaningful memory I have of Dad’s professional life occurred at his retirement event in late 1985 when the person representing the state’s coaches said this:  “John.  We may not have agreed with your every decision, but we never once questioned your motives.”  There can be no higher praise.