Posts Tagged ‘ncaa’

Penn State and how the NCAA made the right decision

July 23, 2012

I grew up in Big Ten country (long before PSU became a member!): there were coaches that even the most die-hard Buckeye fans had to offer up (begrudging) respect.  Joe Paterno was one of them.  He ran a clean program.  He stood for what college athletics is about: winning with class.  Yes, he should have retired about 15 years ago but he was JoePa as iconic to Happy Valley as John Wooden was to UCLA.  This past year we just didn’t learn there wasn’t Santa: we learned that Santa stole from our best friend to give to our most despised enemy.  I know, in part, that is why it hurts.  We didn’t want to believe that one of the greater than life legends of college athletics knowingly covered up the sexual abuse of children.  We wanted to believe one of his last interviews with Sally Jenkins that he didn’t know what was going on.  The emails, the notes when they became public weren’t so much stunning revelations as much as confirmations of what we didn’t want to believe.

As the NCAA fast tracked the investigation process, rumors swirled about the death penalty.  A part of me wanted PSU to receive a total death penalty (with scholarships honored) for all sports, Paterno set the culture at PSU.  PSU has a history of discrimination in athletics (case and point, Renee Portland).  A larger part of me realized that the death penalty for PSU football beyond punishing the players who were not on campus at the time of the coverup, punished the wider community.  The local economy depends on football season: State College is a town of roughly 42,000 people: the football stadium houses 106,000 people.  The tax revenue alone probably funds a majority of the local government budget.  The restaurants, bars, stores, the minimum wage workers all suffer the most with a death penalty.

Is 60 million dollars enough: I’m not sure.  The football revenue in 2010 was 52 million dollars.  Football, in part, funds non-revenue sports (and scholarships).  Is it a good move that the money will be placed into a trust not to be used by the university but administered to assist and raise awareness of the childhood sexual abuse.  The NCAA is allowing all current players (including freshman) to transfer without penalty.  The huge scholarship limits over the next four years will force PSU into massive rebuilding.  The additional sanctions by the Big 10 in not allowing revenue sharing from bowl games will be an additional reminder.

The NCAA penalty “lack of institutional control” has been seen as laughable.  Before, it would mean an extra year of probation or maybe an additional scholarship.  The NCAA spoke loud and clear today: even though an NCAA violation did not occur (really), the NCAA acted in a manner which will serve as a reminder for years to come.  While those in Happy Valley will mourn what was: maybe they will (eventually) see that just like Santa, Paterno’s legend was mythical.  He was a flawed man who made a horrible mistakes.  As the leader of the organization, even in his death, his corporation must be punished.  They will suit up in Happy Valley this fall.  They will play for the love of the sport.  And at the end of the day, maybe, just maybe more individuals will have the courage to come forward and speak up about corporate corruption, harm to children and issues which need to be voiced.

If any good is to come out of this tragedy, may it be that if you and three of your friends go out for drinks, one of you was probably abused as a child.  It’s time we start to have that conversation and build resources to help survivors heal.  There will always be pedophiles.  When the shame of being a victim is one begins to lessen through education, awareness and action that we can learn from because of Penn State, only then can we say we learned a lesson from Sandusky and Paterno.

Sigh, and the the response? Oh, never critique college athletics!

January 4, 2012

Earlier this week, I had a post about a now former UT player who wrote a letter to the editor that demonstrated exceptionally poor grammatical skills.  Look, I’m not a wordsmith.  Being terrifically dyslexic I rely on spell check, grammar check and often have to go back and make basic corrections because I simply do not see the errors.  What disturbed me about the letter was the capitalization (hey, English is pretty clear on this *one* rule!) and a letter with so many errors, that for me, it demonstrated an individual who did not have the basic writing skills that should be indicative of a high school graduate.  I received a reply back to my blog….and approved it….and have been chewing on it:

This is such an ignorant arguement. Their are thousands of international students that attend Universities that can barely even speak the English language yet alone write a coherent sentence, but they are graduating from the top Universities with math, science, and engineering degrees. Who are you to judge a man’s intelligance based soley on one writing sample and form an entire biased arguement against he and every other student athlete. Who are you to speak for Notre Dame, Michigan or Michigan State and who they decide to accept into their institutions. Why do you care what happens to college athlete’s after their playing days are over. They make up less then 4% of the entire student body. Why not take into account all those millions of students across the country who CAN “write a proper English sentence” but are majoring in fields that can’t even get you a decent hourly wage in today’s times. Yet all these students are leaving college 50-60k in debt. For the average student colleges say to them, “You pay us, we’ll educate you in whatever you want to study.” But for the college athlete that same University says “We’ll pay you to play, and we’ll give you an outstanding education, while you make us money to help market our Univeristy on television and gain private donors and corporate dollars to build new facilities and add prestiage to our name. We will also give you personal tutors and every educational resource we have available to keep you eligable.”

So if anything, college athletes have more of an advantage to a more effecient college education because these college’s and Universities have more of an investment in these students athlete’s for them not to fail, as opposed to John Doe who is majoring in Art History or Archeology of the Aztec Empire. Hence, college athlete’s leave their respective Universities  better prepared to succeed in life and with as much education then the average student.”

Sigh.  I think I just proved my point.  A few responses:

“Why do you care what happens to college athlete’s after their playing days are over.”  Put it this way: if somebody goes through high school and college/university and cannot write a basic letter to the editor, there is a fatal flaw in the education system.  I’m not into stalking former wide receivers at a university: I do hope that when an athlete leaves his/her sport she has the skills to succeed in life.

Who are you to judge a man’s intelligance based soley on one writing sample and form an entire biased arguement against he and every other student athlete. I’m not judging his intelligence.  I am saying that there is a major problem with the system. Look, we all receive judgement based on a first impression: when you look for a job, it is often your cover letter/resume.  When you apply to colleges, it is often your essay.  Both require writing skills that were not demonstrated in the letter.

Why not take into account all those millions of students across the country who CAN “write a proper English sentence” but are majoring in fields that can’t even get you a decent hourly wage in today’s times. I do.  Having a BA in American History and a Master’s in Theology, I don’t exactly have the most practical degrees.  I’m hacking down my student loans, live very bare to the bones and after being laid off from one job, my ability to write is what landed me the interview (how do I know? I was told by the person who hired me).  That being said, if you are going to major in political science, you need a plan b.  You need to develop marketable skills.  Being able to write a proper sentence IS critical to success, even in our hyper-abreviated forms of communication.

But for the college athlete that same University says “We’ll pay you to play, and we’ll give you an outstanding education, while you make us money to help market our Univeristy on television and gain private donors and corporate dollars to build new facilities and add prestiage to our name. We will also give you personal tutors and every educational resource we have available to keep you eligable.”  Ok, the university better not be PAYING anybody to play except via a tuition/room/board/books stipend.  And given the letter to the editor, isn’t it concerning that despite the resources available, the individual still could not write a correct letter to the editor? Again, this isn’t the fault of the University of Tennessee: where were the high school English teachers?

The NCAA and member schools are doing a disservice to the athletes when they do not ensure that the students enrolling are able to make the grade in the classroom.

Backing Pat and Other Random Thoughts From Early in the WCBB Season.

December 14, 2011

I’m a hoops junkie.  March is my birthday-Christmas-any celebration you want to name with an extended dance version track.  I live stream games on the phone, stay up until all hours of the night watching Cinderella’s try to win a game and seeing how making the tourney for some schools is just as (if not as exciting) as reaching the Final Four for major powerhouses.

Last season, Gary Blair led Texas A&M to the Aggies first national title. It really was a joyous event for WCBB junkies.  Blair served as an assistant in the vaulted program at Louisiana Tech for many years before becoming the head coach at Arkansas and then Texas A&M.  It was a great ending to a sport that has been dominated by 2-3 programs for a long time.  And to see Blair, who opted to remain coaching “girls sports” in Texas reach the pinnacle of his profession carried over into the off season.

And then the unthinkable happened.  Pat Summit announced she had early onset dementia/Alzheimer type.  Pat Summit: one of the iconic figures of women’s athletics.  Hell, she rehabbed from a torn ACL when that was a career ending injury while coaching the new University of Tennessee Lady Volunteer basketball program.  Over the years she has an obscene winning record, a 100% graduation rate for those who have stayed 4 years (and next semester she will sport 3 graduate students on her roster, Lady Vols just don’t graduate, they graduate early), every class has been to the Final Four since the NCAA started sponsoring a tournament, and all but 3 classes have won a national title. Mind boggling.  Yes, UNC Soccer, Penn State Volley Ball and UConn have had longer winning streaks and more national titles.

But Pat is more than that: she built a program in the infancy of Title IX to a consistent national power. In the heart of football country, in a state where basketball is rarely on the radar screen, she convinced people to become fans of the game: not just her program.  This past weekend, I was at Madison Square Garden for the Maggie Dixon Classic.  I sat next to a group of people from Vermont who came specifically to see the UT Lady Vols.  I asked if they had ties to UT: they’d never been to Knoxville but are fans of Summit and what she has done to raise the visibility of women’s athletics.  As I waited for my train back to Boston, there was a noticeable amount of UT orange in the waiting room.  We all started re-hashing the game: I was the only one who had ever been to Thompson-Boiling arena to see a game.  When I mentioned my parents had season tickets, it was like I said I had seats a Lambeau field.  There were UConn fans who felt the need to go and cheer for Pat despite the unfortunate ending that series had, people who simply knew how much she did along with a handful of others to make Title IX work.

One of the issues I’ve had with the LV program over the years is the public criticism of the players.  I prefer Geno’s closed practices, limiting his players from public scrutiny (and truth be told, I like his sense of humor a bit better, even though I’ll always root for the Lady Vols first!) as much as possible.  Both pushed each other into making better programs.  Both coaches, along with Leon Barrymore, C. Vivian Stringer, Tara Vanderveer and Jim Foster built programs when graduation meant the end playing the sport.

So I stood there on Sunday, watching Pat Summit, receive one of the dozens of accolades she will probably pick up this year about speaking up.  I’m a sap: I had tears in my eyes.  When Kim Mulkey and Brittney Griner took time to give her a hug, in the middle of the basketball game, when Sue Wicks

reminded everybody present that Pat Summit was one of the reasons so many women, both athletes and non-athletes can reach the pinnacle of a given profession, I realized how lucky I’ve been to watch the Lady Vols for over 20 years, every season, in and out.  I still think Geno’s way funnier.  But Pat? I think she put the first crack in Hillary’s glass ceiling.

Last night as the Lady Vols played their annual game against Rutgers, I received a text from my mom saying the standing ovation for Pat was well over a minute. At the RAC. When I saw my twitter feed light up with comments from the ESPN announcers and other individuals present about the standing ovation, when I heard about the Rutgers team selling bracelets for the Pat Summit foundation, after the Baylor team wore purple to raise Alzheimer’s awareness and Carson-Newman wore the We Back Pat shirts during an exhibition game, I thought about how one person could make an impact.  In 1974, women’s athletics was an afterthought in the college sport scene: now the Final Four, Frozen Four and championships in soccer and volleyball routinely sell out.  How women’s athletics is not an afterthought: how rivalries exist and how Title IX needed just as many coaches who knew young women could be as competitive as young men.

And I thought about Pat: who has really been there since the start, who has seen the evolution of women in athletics.  And I bawled: because after a life time of shaping and molding a generation of players, coaches and young women, she deserved to retire when she wanted to and enjoy the fruits of her labors.  And that how even if you have everything money can buy, sometimes, that’s just not enough.

It’s only a few months into the season, already the sport is mourning the loss of 2 coaches in a plane crash, too many ACLs to count and realizing that one of the leaders of women’s athletics is facing the battle of her life.  But the lining is that this is all news: 40 years ago, it probably wouldn’t have even made a mention in the local paper.

I’m so mad I could. . .

November 12, 2011

think about how we (usually) fill in the blank in moments of extreme anger: kill some one (or if your like me axe murder somebody with a crossbow – don’t ask how that came about, I’m pretty sure that beer was involved).  I think I wrote about this earlier this year when Rep. Giffords was shot and some of the blame was heaped on Sarah Palin.  As much as I’d like to, I can’t blame her for the act of a mentally ill person (it’s like blaming Jodie Foster for the actions of John Hinkley).  The scandal at Penn State had me thinking about how we use language in a new way.

This has been stuck in the back of my head for a bit: I’m trying to think the last time I heard the word ‘rape’ in causal conversation to mean anything other than an act of sexual violence.  Of course, it is with much irony I note that the word ‘rape’ in Spanish means monkish as I learned while in Spain.  We use our language carelessly: I’m sure fluency in most languages leads towards metaphors that may have some what violent underpinnings.  I wouldn’t know: I’m a fluent mongolot.  Well, sorta, I can understand slowly spoken French, German and Italian.  Reading, add in Spanish – especially within context like a menu, traveling, art.  Speaking, with a trusty guide-book I can stammer out what I need.  But, I digress.

At some point we learn, it’s ok to say we are so mad we can murder/kill somebody.  We also learn we don’t say “I’m so mad I can rape somebody”.  Is it because it of the intrinsic understanding that the violation that comes with rape might be worse than murder? (And really, nobody is around for a cross comparative study).  Is it because at some level we know the probability of being murdered (or knowing somebody who has been murdered) is low compared to the high probability of knowing a survivor of rape?

Is it, because it is a visceral fear or the worst reality? That something that should be an act of intimacy becomes an act of brutal horror that has us saying we’d kill somebody because we know that is a statement of extreme anger and unreality versus the very reality so many have survived?

Maybe the lesson of the tragedy of Penn State will be that open conversation about rape and sexual violence, about how reaching the tentacles can be for survivors and their loved ones.  Hopefully, we won’t move on to another tragedy once the football season ends, that we will take the time to pause and think about how we can make this world a safer place for everybody. If we can’t manage that, maybe, just maybe we can embrace those who struggle with recovery from sexual violence helping to lessen the shame.

72 Ideas … Getting rid of the ‘big’ things

August 24, 2011

It’s funny how sometimes a random internet project of 72 ways to live simply transcends a long time passion.  Yesterday, Pat Summitt, the long time coach of the University of Tennessee Lady Vols announced she had early onset dementia  – Alzheimer’s type.  I found out the news from most people I know who follow the support in pretty rapid succession (including a Facebook message from my advisor at Hollins).  I was at work and I thought, really? Pat Summitt?  I mean, she is one of the reasons Title IX worked.  Title IX became law in 1972.  Pat Summitt became the head coach of the Lady Vols in 1974: as a full-time graduate student at UT.  Yup.  You read that right: she was the head coach at a time when the NCAA didn’t recognize the sport, when players split scholarships among sports (odd tid bit, long time UT assistant Holly Warlick one of the best point guards to play the game, was on a track scholarship at UT), when the coaches did the laundry, drove the van and took classes.  Summit wrote about how she knew she could demand equality for what the men’s program had but she asked for what she needed and built her program.

The list of accolades and accomplishments fills books: every player who has stayed for 4 years has graduated.  100% graduation rate in a 37 year career.  She won an Olympic medal in Montreal (she rehabed an ACL tear while coaching AND preparing for the Olympics) and she coached the US team to its first gold in Los Angeles.  She has more wins in the NCAA tourney (109) – no other school has appeared IN 100 games.  Yes, UConn, Baylor, and a few other programs might have been a bit better over the past few years.  But as John Wooden was to men’s hoops, Pat Summitt is to women’s athletics.

The SEC schools embraced women’s athletics: Alabama, Georgia compete routinely for national gymnastics titles, Florida, Georgia compete for swimming/diving titles, Arkansas dominates the cross-country circuit.  And when you think that 8 NCAA titles in 28 NCAA tourneys?  Only UNC women’s soccer is better in domination of a sport year in year out.

Pat could have coached a few more years and called it a career.  She didn’t.  She spoke up.  She spoke out.  She will raise awareness.  Women, young women and girls who have reaped the benefits of Title IX (and that would be all of us under 50) owe her a debt of gratitude.  She was one of the pioneers of women’s sports. She taught us that we can fight on the court like guys and not lose our “feminine” identity.

More than all accomplishments on the court, yesterday she did one of the most courageous acts a public figure could do: she made it known that she will lose what has made her great.  She let go a lot of the big things that hold many of us back: fear and shame.  The road ahead for Pat and her family will be hard, but in many ways much simpler.  She openly addressed her diagnosis.  Maybe UT won’t land as many blue chip recruits, maybe they will.  But hopefully the road for Pat and her family will be a bit easier knowing that the Knoxville community, the women’s basketball community and a host of fans will support her in any way possible.

Millions of families who have a loved one with Alzheimer’s or who have lost a person to the disease can find a sliver of hope in the increase in awareness this will bring.  And true to her years of teaching, Pat Summitt is facing head on and not letting the fear, the anger, the embarrassment quiet her.  May we all be so courageous.

The Women’s World Cup

July 19, 2011

An open letter to the US Women’s National Soccer Team (that probably only my mom will read),

You didn’t win the World Cup.  It bites.  Not meeting a goal always does, it’s why we set them.  Pundits, philosophers, teachers all say you learn more in losses than in victories. Meh.  I’m not convinced. Sure, as an athlete it gives you game tape to break down, improve your skills (a rarity for a career, I can’t look back at mistakes on my day job with a tangible copy to see how to improve. Luckily, I don’t do anything important!).

I heard a few of you say you want make your own chapter, loose some of the shadow of ’99.  Maybe it’s a good thing; maybe it’s something that as a non-athlete I don’t get.  What I do know, is that most of you were probably in the crowds cheering on that magical ’99 team.  There were a few lightening bolts for those women: at home, coming off the ’96 and ’98 Olympic games where the women’s teams dominated (soccer, basketball, softball and hockey).  The ‘99ers were the Title IX daughters.  The ones who had to fight to get on boy only teams as playing fields slowly opened to girls.  I know, they are my age and when I heard them speak about being the ‘only’ girl, or shortening the name of Patricia to Pat, I nodded.  My sister and I were the first two girls in our town’s t-ball team.  We were very bad players (ok, let’s face it, t-ball isn’t really a sport…it’s about learning teamwork!).  The boys didn’t want us on their team, we were clueless (my sister asked why they didn’t sell peanuts at t-ball games) and well, maybe managed a hit every other game and played the minimum.

By the time we were in high school, the t-ball teams were full of little girls.  No longer were girls relegated to swimming, diving, track and other individual sports.  Slowly, “powerhouse” universities started to emerge in team sports for women: UNC for soccer, LaTech, Tennessee and later UConn for basketball, UCLA and later Arizona for Softball, Stanford and now Penn State for volleyball.  Look at your roster now: you don’t have to go to UNC to become a national team member (Ok, Julie Foudy would yell Go Cardinal!).

Your legacy can’t be the same as the ‘99ers.  They fulfilled Title IX.  Your team, your generation has done so much more.  You are risk takers: you went to different schools and created traditions.  You’ve tried so hard to get a women’s league going, again.  You’ve won an Olympic Gold Medal (and let’s face it: I know the World Cup is your sport’s pinnacle, but in so many ways, the Olympic title is much easier understood).  You represent with class, and dignity.  You don’t make excuses.  And you left your all on the field.

You are the next generation.  Your expectations are greater, they should be.  But the world is catching up and that is better for all women.  You captivated a nation during a long summer of divide.  My nephews watched with their sister.  Their sisters pointed out the men didn’t medal, and “the girls won the silver.”  I know I have to attend a few soccer matches in the fall for a pair of 6 year olds who at last check were trying to hit beach balls with their heads.

In a few years, when you ask a 12, 13 or 14 year old what they remember about the 2011 World Cup.  The probably won’t say “You lost to Japan.”  You’ll probably hear about teamwork, not giving up, some crazy headers and how it looked like fun.  And you might hear a story about a kid who picked up the game from watching.

You might not have won a trophy: but you made an impact.  Once again, you reminded young women and little girls that we can do anything.  And you picked up the respect of a few boys for how you played the game, and that is never easy.  And you reminded us all, that sometimes, the struggle is the victory.

Father’s Day, the 2011 version

June 19, 2011

So, in my now twice in my life Happy Father’s Day blog, I’m going to skip my normal disdain for the day (well, more specifically all Hallmark holiday’s – and I just learned this one was created by NIXON!) and smile.

My dad (and mom) are in a mini-van (ring of hell #1) with 3 tweeners (ring of hell #2) going to the CWS (return to ring #1) after going to Carhenge and other “tourist sites in Nebraska” (enter rings #2, #3 and #4).  For fun.  The kids are good kids, I don’t understand my father’s love of long distance driving (30 minutes, I’m done) and who buys a mini-van by CHOICE?  But they are having fun being with the 3 oldest grandkids, the grandkids appear unharmed from the pictures and are being tortured at Denny’s (yes, I went there)-as-a-resturant that must come with the grandparent license and I can’t wait to hear all versions.

The past year has been hard – from all angles.  Unemployment, illnesses, strange weather and a list of things have taxed and pushed.  At one point last summer, my dad swore to me I’d look back on 2010 and laugh (I’m not sure I ever will but I see his point).  A college friend posted this article from The Atlantic MonthlyI thought about it and realized the greatest lesson my parents taught my siblings and me is that we will fail.

How did we learn this lesson? My dad is 6 5.  When we were little (read 4 and 5), we’d engage in a 2-1 basketball game against our dad.  He’d block our shots (ok, we were midgets, block is a loose term, all he had to do was put a hand over our heads, I maintain he was trying to pad his statistics).  He’d shoot HOOK SHOTS (we stood no chance).  We’d play until we made a basket purely by luck.  We thought we “won” (we scored on dad) but we really learned.  We learned that sometimes you have to try a lot before you make a basket, we learned that sometimes a game ended before we could score, we learned (in retrospect) that sometimes failing is the best thing.  Painful life lesson best learned on the backyard basketball court.

I’m a t-ball purist.  I’m not sure letting all kid receive an award is the best idea: I was the worst player on my team until my sister joined.  She picked flowers in the field.  We were bad, we had fun and the other kids had to put up with us (I’m sure it was painful for the 2nd graders. . . ).  I do know that learning how to fail and failure being ok if the effort was there is a valuable skill (and probably is somehow related to continued creativity and imagination).

Happy Father’s Day Dad.  You taught us it’s ok to love to do something we are bad at for fun, that sometimes you loose and you were always up for coloring our food.  Now, if we could do something about your Phanatical Jayhawk addition, all would be right with the world.

50 Random Things About Me. . . .

April 13, 2011

So, a friend of mine made a list of 100 non-negative statements about her … uh, yeah. I’m not that brave. So, here are 50 random nonnegative (unless we pick opposite sports teams) about me.

1) I love to travel. My must go to before I die list stands at India, back to China, SE Asia circuit, Trans-Siberian Rail, New Zealand and Australia. Winning the Lotto would help this addiction.

2) I’m a good cook. I’m a really good cook when I put my mind to it – pretty rare – but a good cook.

3) I can travel for 3 weeks including a laptop and CPAP in a backpack the size of a carry on.

4) The aforementioned backpack is the only piece of luggage I own.

5) I once got stuck in the Paris Metro gates with the backpack while on crutches after having my hip reconstructed. It was pretty funny.

6) I’m wildly sarcastic and sardonic. 

7) I have Halloween cats named Jackson and Lafitte.

8) I love college sports.  Doesn’t really matter the sport … there is something about the passion.

9) I have 8 friends who are published authors.

10) I’m terrified of the dentist.

11) I’ve had surgery 31 times (hence the blog name).

12) I’m on the fence about the Kindle or other such book readers. Something about the feel of paper.

13) I actually have written a real letter in the past year. And mailed it.

14) My shower curtain has dancing monkeys on it. Ok, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

15) I’m left-handed.

16) I totaled my car while moving cross-country.

17) I recycle.

18) I’m fiercely loyal to my friends … but if you cross me?

19) I vote in every election.

20) I believe in day baseball, the Cubs winning the World Series and Santa Claus. Well 2 of the 3.

21) I go to church, uh, once a year.

22) I try to remember that most things aren’t as important as we make them out to be.

23) I think Oreos and Diet Coke make a perfect dinner. 

24) Occasionally, I like to splash in the big puddles.

25) I prefer tea over coffee.

26) I read just about everything . . . except vampire and romance books. Which is odd because 2 of my friends have published books in those genres.

27) I’ll defend just about anybody’s right for free speech … even if I disagree with them.

28) Casablanca is my favorite movie.

29) I enjoy watching people … we can learn so much by just watching.

30) I’m not as outgoing as most people assume I am; I’m actually pretty reserved.

31) I’m allergic to shellfish.

32) I dyed my hair brown once … it turned out orange. Whoops.

33) I love my 3 nieces and 3 nephews more than anything else on this planet.

34) I love red wine.

35) My favorite item of clothing is my Ohio State hoodie … it replaced my GAP hoodie.

36) I try to laugh as much as possible.

37) I support as many local businesses as possible.

38) When I swim laps, I sing Bon Jovi in my head.

39) I am amazed at my friends and family who can parent, work and find time for themselves.

40) I try to remember my Grandmother’s favorite question “what did you learn today?”

41) I have had bone grafts from cadaver donors . . . I hope I can make the same choice if ever presented to me.

42) I once threw a pan away after a cooking experiment.

43) I have a bobble head Jesus and Moses action figure doll.

44) I’m a slightly rabid basketball fan.

45) My mother’s name is misspelled on my birth certificate.

46) Every year, I really think the Cubs are going to win the World Series. One year, I’ll be right!

47) When I play tennis, I sometimes switch hands with my racquet.

48) I’m afraid of ice storms.

49) I graduated from Hollins College.

50) I’m pretty sure peanut butter is the world’s most perfect food.

It’s your game; it’s your national championship

April 5, 2011

Title IX, enacted in 1972, required equal opportunity for girls and women in high school and college athletics. In 1973, a young high school coach named Gary Blair started teaching and coaching in Dallas. Initially, he had hoped to become a football or baseball coach: instead, his first opportunity was to coach girls basketball: more specifically a new program (probably in light of Title IX).  When given the opportunity to move on to become an assistant in a high school football program, Blair turned the job down. Make no mistake: turning down football in Texas is, well, like turning down basketball in Indiana.

Perhaps it is more than fitting after a long road in high school and college coaching won his first national title in Indiana with his team from Texas A&M.  Blair took a 9th seeded Arkansas team to the Final Four in ’98.  Tonight, he finally received his ring.

The young women playing collegiate athletics didn’t live in a time when sport wasn’t open to them.  Gary Blair is one of the many teachers, coaches who took a chance and started coaching young women. He turned down the biggest sport in his home state to coach girls – back when that was an insult. His speech was gracious to Notre Dame. His humility is a lesson for everybody. His team gave him the greatest gift they could give their coach: a national title. In Indiana, in the stadium where Hoosiers was filmed, a team of unknown players delivered. It is the stuff movies are made of: tonight, it was magical. Tonight, a person who has given so much to the sport got something back. Tonight the good guy won. Congratulations Coach Blair; those of us who love the sport couldn’t be happier for you and the Aggies.  You reminded us why we love the sport.

You want to know what kind of fan I am?

March 26, 2011

Somebody made the mistake on a FB thread about saying (paraphrase) it’s hard to tell what kind of (sports) fan I am. Perhaps it’s because I still hear the amazing words of Taylor Mali and teachers, perhaps it’s because I see the NCAA as owners and some student athletes as over paid athletes (and before ANYBODY jumps down my throat, let me be clear: it’s a handful of athletes but every time I hear an athlete complain about “not being paid” and I’m writing a check to my student loan company, I think “you are being paid: in your education. Yes you are expected to balance sport and academics, but most of us balanced work, academics and still have loan payments that rival mortgages or rent).

And I knowingly tread into hostile waters over defending the dismissal of Bruce Pearl: he lied, the lied about lying and then he asked the student-athlete to lie about it.  In a Jimmy Swaggert ”I have sinned” moment, he asked for forgiveness and called this a “lesson he has learned”. Let me be clear: Bruce Pearl is an adult: his son played for him at UT. I would hope that any college coach (or any adult) engaging in business practices (and that is recruiting) would follow basic ethics of their industry.

Look, I get that the NCAA has insane recruiting rules (can’t tweet but can respond? can only met on every other Thursday’s in months with A’s but never if it’s an odd-numbered month – ok, I made that one up) and you probably need 2 attorneys in the compliance office TO understand the rules.  AND at the same time, a high-profile coach is probably the single most recognizable face of the university.  Name somebody affiliated with Duke, University of Oklahoma, UConn, UT (Texas or Tennessee), USC, Ohio State, Nebraska: how many name coaches versus academics.

So, when I said it was right for Bruce Pearl to be dismissed (and I think Jim Tressel should be shown the same door), and got some snark back, I thought I’d give a longer answer. Here is what kind of fan I am:

1) I’m the type that shows up and roots for the underdog in early round actions and will watch the qualifying matches because that is where you can see people competing for the chance.  You know, the races where the runner or swimmer from some unknown country finishes next to last in a World Championship or Olympic Games and that is as triumphant as a medal.

2) I’m the type of fan who will root for a team who is dominant because their coach wins by 20 when s/he could win by 80 because that is a lesson.

3) I’m the type of fan who really can’t root against many teams (er, Duke aside) and I enjoy watching good games.

4) I’m the type of fan that will be critical of my team and give credit to the opponent.

5) I’m the type of fan who thinks there can be good losses, ugly wins.

6) I’m the type of fan who loves it when the coach puts in the “never play” athletes early on so another team isn’t embarrassed.

7) I’m the type of fan who will stay up until 2 to finish watching a game on the west coast.

8) I’m the type of fan who thinks that if a coach leaves, the players should get to leave without having to sit out for a year: I also think that a player should be allowed to transfer after their freshman or sophomore year without penalty. Maybe it is a program fit, a major or simply homesick.  Let them leave at the end of the year without penalty as underclass students.

9) I’m the type of fan who thinks coaches should criticize players behind closed doors. And I love my Lady Vols but I don’t see the point of letting people know when they are locked out of a locker room or calling out a specific member of a team in the press.  Did you know the UConn freshman were locked out? Probably not: one of their freshman guards let it slip. And Geno admitted it.

10) I’m the type of fan who thinks that college athletics is a part of the system. It excites the alum, the surrounding communities. And it shouldn’t define the university. In many states, the highest paid public employee is a coach: that is before the shoe contracts,tv contracts and all the other perks.  Because of this, I think the greatest lesson a university can show its students is, you break the rules in such a major way, we will show you the door. We don’t tolerate that here. Why? Because the university is not there for athletics. Sports are there for the university.

That’s what type of fan I am. Of course, I’m a Cubs fan so that makes me an idealist and a dreamer. And I think that when you stand up for doing what is right, you deliver the greatest message about sports and community. Winning isn’t the only thing: having the courage to compete is the most important thing.


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