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Research

November 21, 2014

We freely admit that a state high school association is much better at running tournaments than conducting research. First as athletes and then as coaches, most of us got in the habit of processing information quickly and making fast decisions. Now as administrators, our member schools depend on us for quick answers because the contest our answer may affect is scheduled this week, or tomorrow, or tonight.

However, there is a small body of research that is unique to the MHSAA. Like our counterpoint organizations across the US, we keep the regular-season and postseason tournament records and we have the data for officials registrations, student participation and tournament attendance. Our uniqueness is in two areas.

First, the MHSAA has surveyed its member schools about participation fees (a.k.a., pay-for-play) every school year since 2003-04. This is the longest running survey and largest body of information on this topic anywhere. You can find all the results at MHSAA.com here.

Second, the MHSAA has surveyed middle school students three times – in 1997-98, 2001-02, and 2008-09 – and is doing so again this month, to assess what sports they are currently engaged in and are most interested in playing as high school students.

It is this survey that was partly responsible for the MHSAA’s addition of lacrosse and bowling tournaments in 2005 and 2006, the two most recent additions to the MHSAA postseason tournament schedule.

Ali

July 8, 2016

My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.

Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.

We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.

We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.

After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.

We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.

We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.

We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.

Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.

Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.