"Put Me in Coach"

Following on the heels of my recent post on participation trophies comes this news from some of the fine folks at the Kanawha County Board of Education: it is considering a policy that would mandate playing time for middle school athletes.

Presumably suggested with the best of intentions by Board member Becky Jordon, the as-yet (and hopefully to remain) unspecific policy would apparently require all middle school athletes to receive at least some playing time in every game.

After receiving initial, and almost completely unanimous, opposition to the idea, Ms. Jordon attempted to explain the "thought" process behind the proposed policy but just dug herself a deeper hole. The explanation is so inexplicable that it deserves ample re-quoting.

"Jordon says the sixth- through eighth-grade is a fragile time for students, and some coaches are too hard on young athletes. That can be detrimental to their future success, she said.

'I think this has been misunderstood. Yes, there are a lot of young athletes that work really hard, and they deserve the right to play more. I just feel like it needs to be fair. I'm not saying take the superstars out of the game, but you know what? Give everyone a chance,' she said. 'We have some coaches that don't always treat everyone fair, . . . and often times there are hurt feelings.

I can promise that, if a kid sits on that bench all through middle school, they will not attempt to be engaged in high school. We know the kids that are most involved are the most successful,' she said. 'It's not just about bullying. It's an awkward age. There isn't a person that can say middle school was a great time. If we can make a minimal step to make kids feel better about themselves, we should.'"

While, at least as it was initially reported, it appeared the proposal would require equal playing time for athletes, Ms. Jordon either never made that part of her proposal or abandoned it. But the idea that a Board of Education (particularly one faced with budgetary difficulties following the recent resounding defeat of an excess levy) should be looking over the shoulder of every middle school coach in the county to "give everyone a chance" is almost as absurd.

Heaven forbid that 12, 13, and 14 year-olds learn that everything isn't "fair" or that everyone doesn't get "a chance." We should make them feel "better about themselves" even if it is at the expense of more talented, or, even worse, more dedicated teammates. 

Not to mention the aside that "I'm not saying take the superstars out of the game" raises two serious questions: (1) why not? If participation, not excellence, is the mandated goal of Kanawha County now, why should the gifted get special treatment?; and (2) who exactly is going to determine which players are the "superstars"? Surely not the coaches, Ms. Jordon doesn't trust them enough to make decisions about playing time. 

Perhaps the Board should spend its time, energy, and precious little funding to set up a blue ribbon panel to decide, on a school-by-school and team-by-team basis, exactly who the superstars are that are entitled to Board-sanctioned special treatment. And while they're at it, I guess they need to set up a second panel to determine which of the athletes has "worked really hard" enough to warrant playing time.

It also says something about Ms. Jordon's view of athletics and the school system when she asserts that "if a kid sits on that bench all through middle school, they will not attempt to be engaged in high school." Maybe they shouldn't be "engaged" in sports in the first place. Or, how 'bout they decide to be engaged in something they have an aptitude for, say debate, or chorus, or robotics, or a mathematics competition, or theater, or wood shop or metal shop (I'm probably showing my age here -- do they have wood shop or metal shop in middle school these days?), or even a job after school? 

Of course, Ms. Jordon's proposal also completely disregards the value of Team and being a member of a team (even if you don't play much or aren't particularly good) about which I have written before. As I always told my players, there are six or seven McDonald's all-Americans sitting on the Duke basketball bench every year, but they practice every day and they're as much a part of the team as anyone.

CCHS team at the State Finals in 2008. Many of the players
shown had worked for three months to get there,  froze their butts
off for two hours, and never got in the game. Ask them if they
think their State Championship plaques were worth it. 

But there is no capital "T" in team if everyone gets to play and only the "superstars" play more than the rest. Just show up and play, lest your feelings get hurt and you come to realize at 14, rather than at 18 or 19, that we are not all the same and that life doesn't hand out either participation trophies or playing time. 

"Put me in coach, I'm ready to play." 

Takes on a whole new meaning when followed with "no, I mean you have to put me in. It's my turn. Ms. Jordon says so."

It's only fair, right?

The Best Team Doesn't Always Win

Watching the United States' men's national team hit a cross bar and two posts during the first half of its match against Jamaica, I started to hear a voice.  My own, to be precise.

"Maybe this is going to be one of 'those games'," the voice said.

I can't remember if I've written this before, but I've said it many times, and believe it's true: soccer is the one sport among all in which a clearly dominant team can play well and still lose, or at least not win.

Maybe it's the size of the playing field, or the number of players, that allows a true underdog, in ability and physical skill, to have "a shot" more than other sport. I tend to think it's because of the nature of the game and its running clock. 

In basketball, a vastly outgunned team used to be able to stall the game and at least stay close, if not have the opportunity to pull a huge upset. With the advent of shot clocks at the college and pro levels,  that ability no longer exists. Given the relative lack of merit in watching a 12-10 basketball game, not many would argue with the rule, although it does limit an underdog's ability to slow the game.

In American football, the constant stoppage of play means that a certain number of plays, and therefore scoring opportunities, are guaranteed. 

This isn't to say that "upsets" don't happen in basketball or football. They clearly do, and the disinterested observer almost always roots for them.

But I'm not talking about upsets here. What can happen only in soccer, I believe, on more than a very rare occasion, is when one team is clearly outplayed on the field during a contest, and still wins, or at least doesn't lose. That is one of the reasons that I believe that soccer is the most compelling of all sports.

In my time as a coach, I was on both ends of results in which the obviously better team did not win. I can still remember my son's travel team dominating a match in the West Virginia Open Cup, only to lose on a fluke goal that bounced over our keeper's head. But I can also remember several victories in which we were outmanned and outplayed, but found a way to win.

Our high school team lost at least two games in my tenure as assistant and head coach in which we dominated possession, but couldn't push that ball across the line or under the bar. The worst was in sectional play, against our biggest rival, in which we controlled the game, lost our best midfielder, kept fighting, endured a lightning delay, and lost because the other team converted its only real chance to score (at least, that's the way I remember it).

But I also remember the Regional Final in 2009, when we outplayed our AA-A rival, but headed into overtime, then the second overtime, then the third, then the fourth, tied at 0-0. And I can remember, as clear as if it happened last night, our graceful forward scoring in the last minute of the fourth sudden death overtime to send us all into a frenzy.

It's that build-up, that anticipation, that frustration, that makes soccer great.

And the U.S.? It scored in the 55th minute on a free kick and made its path to the final round of World Cup qualifying much safer. And those crossbars and posts and great saves by the keeper made it all the sweeter.

The U.S. celebrates Herculez Gomez's goal against Jamaica.

Sometimes, the best team does win.

But that voice in my head didn't stop whispering until the final whistle blew.

An Awkward Day for Coaches

Three events regarding American coaches were revealed on Thursday were so surreal I can't let them pass without offering a word about each.

In the NFL, the release of audio tape of Greg Williams, the former New Orleans Saints defensive coordinator, and now in all likelihood a former coach in all respects, presumably sealed not only WIlliams' fate but also that of his former bosses, the Saints and head coach Sean Payton, with regard to the fines and suspensions placed on them by the league in the wake of the bounty program that Williams installed and Payton not only tacitly allowed but actively tried to cover up.

Meanwhile, in the NBA, Orlando Magic head coach Stan Van Gundy had apparently decided enough was enough and outed his superstar, Dwight Howard, who has been working behind the scenes to get Van Gundy fired. In the height of awkward moments, immediately after Van Gundy had completed his comments to the media about Howard, Howard appeared at the press gathering and put his arm around Van Gundy.

And, finally, news came from Arkansas that the University's football coach, Bobby Petrino, hadn't been as forthcoming as Van Gundy in his recent dealings with the press. Petrino informed the press on Tuesday that he had been involved in a motorcycle accident Sunday. What he didn't tell the press (and in fact lied about) was that there was another rider on his bike. A 25 year-old female employee (and former volleyball player) at the school, with whom he was, according to the school which has now suspended him, engaged in an "inappropriate relationship."

Petrino at his press conference. One can only assume
that the neck brace and scrapes are from his accident,
not what his wife did to him when he got home.

If one were to pick one word to describe each of the three coaches and their unusual circumstances, the word I choose for Williams is arrogant. Stupid and evil would work too. While NFL players and commentators debate whether what Williams said in his "pep talk" went beyond the bounds of decency, or at least normality where the NFL is concerned, there's something more simple at play in my mind. 

Williams knew, or should have known at the time that he made the speech, that he and the Saints were under investigation for their bounty program. He knew that they had been told to stop offering money to defensive players for injuries to the opposing team. And Williams knew that there was an individual from outside of the team (filmmaker Sean Pamphilon, who was making a documentary on Saints player Steve Gleason) present during his speech.

All of which has to lead one to conclude that Williams thought he was above the law. After all, he had gotten away with his antics for years before, first with the Buffalo Bills, then with the Saints. It was pure arrogance that led Williams to conclude that it was business as usual when it came to his the defensive tactics his Saints would employ against the San Francisco 49ers. That arrogance will surely cost him any chance to ever coach again. And rightfully so.

Good riddance Mr. Williams

My word for Van Gundy is honest. Coaching and honesty don't always go hand-in-hand, and sometimes it is almost inevitable that the two cannot coexist. In preparing a team for a game a coach will often have to stretch or ignore the truth, whether to convince his or her team that they have a chance, or that the other team has a chance. It's the same in dealing with the media, when coaches often have to defuse tension within the team, or not say what's really on their mind ("the referees didn't cost us the game" comes to mind as a statement that is often the exact opposite of what a coach is really thinking).

Yet Van Gundy chose to confront a question about Howard in a straightforward and honest manner. He could have chosen to plead ignorance, simply ignore the question, or shoot the messenger, but he gave an honest answer and then an honest assessment of the situation. And he was absolutely right. Many of us don't particularly care for some of the people we work for or with, but it doesn't, or shouldn't, stop us from doing our jobs as best we can.

Slimy has to be the word for Petrino. Not because he was apparently engaged in an inappropriate relationship with a woman half his age with a wife and four kids at home (history is littered with men and women much better than Petrino who have done the same or worse). Not because he abandoned his previous employer, the Atlanta Falcons, in mid-season.

But because he lied about the accident, first to his boss and then to the media, and then by all appearances made an appearance that was meant to draw sympathy to him (or attention away from the circumstances that surrounded his mishap). And asked a Good Samaritan who drove by the scene of the crash not to call 911. And because the week before his companion was hired as his team's "student-athlete development coordinator."

Head football coaches, especially those at big state universities, expect to and can get away with a lot when they win. But the way Petrino handled this situation, in an apparently calculating manner from the moment it happened, can only be seen as the acts of a selfish, and, yes, slimy man.

One day, three unusual and awkward moments for three coaches, who can be described in three words. How can a blogger be so lucky?

A Shot at Redemption

"A man walks down the street, he says 'why am I soft in the middle now?

Why am I soft in the middle when the rest of my life is so hard?

I need a photo opportunity; I want a shot at redemption.

Don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard.'"

I used to dislike Rick Pitino. Not a little. A lot. 

But they say that everyone deserves a second chance. And Pitino has earned one with me.

Sure, he and his Providence team were darlings 25 years ago, the little engine that could, the collection of gym rats and castoffs that made it to the Final Four.  After that, though, Pitino had shown his true colors by jumping ship to the New York Knicks, then Kentucky, then the Celtics, then Louisville. And with his fancy suits and fancier loafers he always seemed a little too slick, a lot too confident, to inspire much of anything other than dislike in the casual fan and especially the fan of any team other than the one he was coaching at the time.

The former Slick Rick?

I have to admit to a certain smug satisfaction several years ago when Pitino was excoriated after news of a dalliance with Karen Sypher (apparently straight out of casting for Fatal Attraction) led to sordid speculation in the press and forced Pitino to announce that he had been the target of an attempted extortion. 

Whether due to that sobering incident or simply maturation, Pitino seems a changed man and a changed coach. The press has been full of stories in this week leading up to the Final Four of how Pitino has mellowed, transforming himself from an unapproachable dictator to a likable mentor. Even seniors on his current team remark on how he has changed just in their time at Louisville, that he talks to and jokes with the freshmen players in a manner that they couldn't have imagined three years ago.

Perhaps most impressively, Pitino neither portrays himself as a victim in the scandal brought on by Sypher's allegations, nor does he point to it as playing a role in his change. Instead, he points with pride to the fact that he learned during that time to simply turn the other cheek, something he certainly hadn't been known for in the past.

Pitino's maturation has been amplified this week as Louisville has prepared to play Kentucky, his former team and in-state rival.  The noise gets even louder, or the suits a little whiter, when he is compared to Kentucky's coach, John Calipari, who seems to have many of the same traits as the old Rick.

It may be unusual, or even uncomfortable, for Pitino to find himself in the role of both underdog and sympathetic character. But his actions over the past three years, and those of his team in the Big East and NCAA tournaments to this point, have earned him the right to both.

Pitino was dangerously close, as Paul Simon said, to becoming "a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard." I, for one, am glad he didn't. Regardless of how Saturday's game turns out, this NCAA tournament has been Pitino's shot at redemption. And, as many of his teams have been famous for, he drained the three.

The Religious Athlete

It's impossible to watch ESPN, or an NBA game, or read the sports section these days without hearing or seeing a reference to Jeremy Lin.

From the awful ("Linevitable"?) puns in the New York Post to breathless "Top Ten Lin Moments" on SportsCenter (after one week as a starter? seriously?) he has been everywhere. And not without reason - his is a "feel good" story if ever there was one, although one suspects if he was plying his trade in Houston or San Francisco, his two former NBA teams, he wouldn't be getting nearly the press that comes with playing in Madison Square Garden.

Lin shooting over a Laker in a recent game.

By far the most interesting analysis regarding Lin's instant fame, however, hasn't been from ESPN or even the New York Times sports section. It's been from David Brooks, the Times' columnist, who analyzed Lin's faith and, as Brooks sees it, the inevitable conflict between devoutly religious athletes and athletic success. 

Brooks believes that success in the sports world and living a religious life are antithetical. Far be it from me to summarize Brooks' position -- he is perhaps the political and social pundit whose writing and intellect I admire most -- so let's just let him say it:

Ascent in the sports universe is a straight shot. You set your goal, and you climb toward greatness. But ascent in the religious universe often proceeds by a series of inversions: You have to be willing to lose yourself in order to find yourself; to gain everything you have to be willing to give up everything; the last shall be first; it's not about you . . . Sports history is littered with odd quotations from people who try to reconcile their love of sport with their religious creed -- and fail.

As much as I agree with Brooks regarding many star athletes, I disagree just as strongly with regard to sport in general, and amateur sports in particular. Devotion to a craft or simply a belief in one's natural talent may result in self-centeredness at the pinnacle of a sport, particularly individual sports, which may be difficult to reconcile with subservience or submission to a great power or the greater good. But Brooks paints with too broad a brush. While a belief in oneself or the need to prove oneself may be necessary to the inner drive that is required to succeed at the very highest level, team sports teach us something very different.

The concept of team, and with it that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, is the very essence of sport. It also permeates every aspect of our daily lives, on the field and off. Being a "team player" or "taking one for the team" are concepts that everyone in our culture understands and most value. Sports at any level can and do teach us that practice, hard work, and perseverance can help make even that teammate who is not naturally gifted or athletically talented a valued member. Even if it's just by working hard in practice, or providing a warm body to scrimmage against, or supporting teammates during a game.

These values that anyone can learn by participating in a team sport - loyalty, honesty, hard work, self-sacrifice - are exactly the same as those demanded by our religious ethos, or even more generally, by democracies. I don't see a conflict between succeeding as a team member and religion or society. In fact, I believe that what sports teach us about teamwork is another reason why our society values sport, and why it can and does make us better members of that collective effort.