Resilience
November 8, 2011
Several seasons ago, University of Florida Men’s Basketball Coach Billy Donovan was asked what, after a necessary amount of player talent, is the key to a successful season. Coach Donovan responded: “Resiliency.”
Building on that, Harvey Gratsky, publisher of Association Convention and Facilities magazine, wrote: “Resilience, flexibility, persistence and the wisdom to take lessons learned and apply them are all characteristics of successful people.”
Mr. Gratsky continued with broadened remarks: “Resilient associations that dig deep and find ways to leverage the new normal have been rewarded.” He added, these organizations show “a real sense of urgency to reinvigorate . . .”
This publisher was addressing associations and the convention business that depends on healthy, vibrant associations; but he could have been describing the MHSAA these past three years. For even before the recession’s effects on associations generally, the MHSAA was dealing with a potentially lethal fee judgment in the sports seasons litigation.
But in what could have been our bleakest years, we’ve had our best. We accelerated our learning and expanded our services. Expenses went down and revenues went up, without increasing our basic tournament ticket prices.
We were resilient and felt urgency to reinvigorate our operations and programs; and we’ve been rewarded with the best three years in the organization’s financial history, poised now to serve our constituents in unprecedented ways.
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.