Specialization Risks
July 21, 2014
Another informed and influential voice has joined our frequent refrain that sports specialization is rarely in a student’s best interest.
David Epstein, author of The Sports Gene, offered an opinion piece for the New York Times last month that “hyper-specialization . . . is both dangerous and counterproductive.”
Epstein described the results of a three-year study at Loyola University of Chicago that found highly specialized youth had a 36 percent increased risk of suffering a serious overuse injury, including “stress fractures in their backs, arms and legs; damage to elbow ligaments; and cracks in the cartilage in their joints.”
Epstein continued: “Because families with greater financial resources were better able to facilitate the travel and private coaching that specialization requires, socio-economic status turned up as a positive predictor of serious injury.”
“In case health risks alone aren't reason enough for parents to ignore the siren call of specialization,” wrote Epstein, “diversification also provides performance benefits.” He cited “better learning of motor and anticipatory skills – the unconscious ability to read bodies and game situations – to other sports. They take less time to master the sport they ultimately choose.”
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.