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.

Baloney

January 27, 2015

When I was in high school and college I worked a different job each summer, usually looking for hard labor that would help prepare my body for the next football season, and each time confirming that it would not be my choice for lifetime employment. One summer I worked at a lumber yard and paper mill complex along the banks of the Wisconsin River.

Every day I ate lunch with the men who had made this their life’s work; and I grew in ways both positive and negative as I listened to their conversations and tales. We all brought our own lunch pails.

One day, one of the more veteran employees opened his lunchbox and flew into a rage. “I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “Baloney again! I hate baloney.”

Trying to calm him down, another worker said, “If you hate baloney so much, just ask your wife to make you something else.”

To which the complainer replied, “That won’t work. I make my own lunches,” which resulted in an uproar of laughter from the rest of us.

I thought of this incident recently as I was preparing to meet with constituents about the rules they most love to hate: policies relating to coach and player contact out of season. Those are our most criticized rules.

But it occurs to me, if we don’t like the sandwich we’re eating – out-of-season coaching rules – we should remember: we made them ourselves, and we can change them. In fact, no one is in a better position to do so than we are. And no one has a greater duty to do so than we have, if we really are in need of a new recipe.