Playing Time
December 20, 2013
I spent just enough time sitting on the bench during my high school basketball and college football careers to know I hated it, and I hurt for those who sat on the bench all the time. Even as a headstrong, self-centered adolescent, it occurred to me that not being able to play as much as one might want, or not at all, had to be a terrible feeling.
This greatly affected my approach to coaching football. As defensive coordinator, I would see who was not engaged on the first two offensive units and begin to teach these “extras” defensive skills and strategies. Several players found their niche and contributed either as starters or key reserves on defense.
I made it a point at the subvarsity level to give playing time every week to every player who was on time to and active at every practice that week; and I tried to give a start to every player who met all our team rules and responsibilities for the season.
I know from the reactions of these players and their parents that their attitude about our program improved as they became increasingly engaged with our football team. I saw also that they seemed to support their classroom teachers more, as well as other aspects of our school.
I’ve lost track of them, but I suspect these players and parents continued to be positive voices for the school for many more years – among the loud voices who would not support the transfer of sports from schools to community groups and private clubs. They would advocate more opportunities to be a part of school teams, starting in earlier grades.
Dodger Lessons
August 6, 2013
The first baseball team I played on was the Dodgers. I’ve been a Dodger fan ever since, checking their place in the National League standings almost every day of the season, year after year. It would have been difficult to learn more about sports and life from any professional sports franchise than one could learn from the Dodgers as I was growing up.
It was the Dodgers who returned integration to the Major Leagues in 1951, which from my home in central Wisconsin seemed unremarkable; and when I became old enough to think about baseball, Jackie Robinson was my most favorite player for a long while.
It was the Dodgers who led the Major League’s migration from the northeast to the west, which my young mind could not grasp. From historic Brooklyn to Los Angeles? To play in the Coliseum?
I could not know then that this leading edge of professional sports franchise mobility would become an early adopter of a new toy called “television,” and that this would solidify baseball’s place as the national pastime for two more generations.
I coped with tragedy as catcher Roy Campanella suffered a paralyzing injury. I considered religion’s place in life as Sandy Koufax declined to pitch on Jewish holy days.
The Dodgers of my youth already knew that life is not fair. How could it be after Oct. 3, 1951, when the hated Giants’ Bobby Thompson hit a ninth-inning homerun to steal the National League pennant from my Dodgers?
Sadly, the Dodgers of more recent years have been beset by the kind of ownership dramas now common among professional sports as the insipid idle rich ruin even the most stable and storied franchises.
And speaking of rich, had it not been for my dear mother’s insatiable desire to clean out every closet she found, I might be rich too. For I had collected, and kept in mint condition, the baseball card of every Dodger player of the 1950s. They were thrown out while I was away at college.