Valuable Victories
June 30, 2014
The 95th annual meeting of the National Federation of State High School Associations occurs June 28 to July 2 in Boston. I wonder if any speaker will say anything as profound as this statement by philosopher/psychologist William James during a lecture in Boston in 1906 (just months after the founding of the National Collegiate Athletic Association):
“. . . the aim of a football team is not merely to get the ball to a certain goal (if that were so, they would simply get up on some dark night and place it there), but to get it there by a fixed machinery of conditions – the game’s rules and the opposing players.”
Competitive athletics is nothing without a set of rules that opponents must follow. All opponents. Even those with “helicopter parents” who try to provide a parachute to their child after a mistake. Even those who believe their money or connections should give them a free pass. Even for star players; even for substitutes.
Without rules of eligibility and competition, and opponents playing by the very same rules, there is no validity in moving the ball to the goal. Without rules, there is no value in sinking the putt, making the basket, clearing the bar or crossing the finish line.
Without a regulatory scheme adhered to by all competitors, victory is hollow. Rules are a big part of what gives school sports meaning and value.
Yogi
October 27, 2015
We lost a treasure when Yogi Berra died last month at the age of 90.
I hope a lot of people attended his funeral. After all, it was Yogi who said, “Always go to other peoples’ funerals, otherwise they won’t come to yours.”
Yogi had an intriguing mind for math. It was he who told us to “Pair up in threes.” He informed us that “A nickel ain’t worth a dime anymore.” He said, “Baseball is 90 percent mental and the other half is physical.” And, “You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.”
Yogi was a sage observer of everyday life. In fact, he told us “You can observe a lot just by watching.” He observed that “No one goes there nowadays, it’s too crowded.” And, “It gets late early.”
Of course, Yogi ought to have known a lot about baseball, a sport in which he excelled and enjoyed unprecedented and unduplicated success as catcher for 10 World Series championship teams. He was an 18-time All-Star; but with characteristic humility, Yogi confessed, “In baseball, you don’t know nothing.”
While wise about many things, Yogi wasn’t correct about everything. When he said, “It ain’t over til it’s over,” he was wrong. It ain’t ever going to be over for Yogi.
And yet, without Yogi, “The future ain’t what it used to be.”