Urgency
November 8, 2011
I still have in my files and in my mind Joe Klein’s Newsweek editorial of Sept. 21, 1992, that took Bill Clinton to task for his “small themes” during the closing months of his campaign for the U.S. presidency.
Never one to be shy in his bully pulpit at Newsweek (or in his then anonymously published novel Primary Colors based on the 1992 Democratic presidential primary), Klein wrote that Clinton’s late campaign efforts were “rhetorically flaccid, intellectually unadventurous, morally undemanding.”
In response, Clinton’s campaign strategist, James Carville, resorted to a sports metaphor: “The way to the goal line is to keep running off tackle. Four yards and a cloud of dust.”
This “take no chances, do no harm, run out the clock” spirit and strategy that so infuriated Klein will not be seen at the MHSAA. Expectations and efforts will be in continuous crescendo no matter how close the goal line gets. In fact, as it is with any good football team in the “red zone,” the closer the goal line looms, the greater the sense of urgency there will be.
There is no greater proof at this moment to our most inner circle of constituents – high school athletics directors – than the MHSAA’s work with ArbiterSports to become the first state high school association in America to develop, and to deliver at least initially at no cost to all member high schools, a comprehensive suite of electronic tools for athletic department administration. This is a responsibility, and risk, that could have been left to others; but we’re being motivated by undertaking the task here and now – first in the nation – so that the product is tailor-made for high school sports, Michigan’s way.
Making a Statement
June 17, 2015
Amid the horrific destruction of Baghdad, the conductor of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, Karim Wasfi, is making a statement. Mr. Wasfi has been carrying a chair and his beloved cello to the exact locations where violence occurs, very shortly after it occurs, and he plays.
With the roar of car bombs still ringing in ears and rubble still smoking, Wasfi plays. He told National Public Radio: “The other side chose to turn every element, every aspect of life in Iraq into a battle zone. I chose to turn every corner of Iraq into a spot for civility, beauty and compassion.”
The response of this single citizen to the catastrophic chaos in his city and country is especially powerful because of the beauty of his music amidst the brutality of civil war; but neither his gift nor the jolting juxtaposition should cause us to miss the message that our response to overwhelming problems could be and should be like his, even if less newsworthy from the perspective of a national radio broadcast. For example ...
- We can wring our hands in despair that the Earth’s increasingly polluted air, land and waters are so far gone and the problem is of such great scale that nothing we could ever do will change things; or, we can choose to turn every corner of our little slice of the physical world into a less polluted place. We can make a statement.
- We can weep over the slaughter of elephants, the leveling of mountains or the razing of forests or jungles by crooks or corporations that cannot see the consequences of their reckless avarice; or, we can choose to make our neighborhoods spots of beauty, conservation and sustainability. A statement.
- We can cry ourselves to sleep over humanity’s inhumanity to those who look, dress or worship differently; or, we can choose to make our little community a welcoming place for refugees where long-suffering and persecuted people can feel safe and hopeful. A statement.
- And we can become frustrated that the values of school sports are so regularly undermined by the excesses of youth, college, professional and international sports that it feels hopeless to hang onto what we believe; or, we can choose to devote ourselves to maintaining our little niche of the sports world as a more principled place ... where scholarship, sportsmanship, safety and a sensible scope are recognizable and reliable core values. A statement.
The great conductor carrying his chair and cello to the rubble is real. It’s also a metaphor which reminds the rest of us of other daunting problems and the opportunity each individual person has to make a meaningful response – a clear statement – where we live, work and play.