Sean Avery and Bobby Orr in the same breath?
Not really. It’s simply that Avery’s latest and rather tasteless public outburst brought to mind someone who was – and is – very much unlike the veteran Dallas Stars forward.
Bobby Orr comes to mind because, publicly, he has always been everything someone like Avery is not. Quiet, rather dull, humble, perhaps even shy. And certainly not someone to seek the limelight.
Orr’s number 2 was recently retired by the Oshawa Generals of the Ontario Hockey League. Orr played in Oshawa from the age of 14 to his graduation to the Bruins at the age of 18. By all accounts the Oshawa organization had offered this honor many times over the years, but Orr declined because he was uncomfortable with all the fuss that would be made. (Orr has been, in recent years, a successful and well-regarded player agent.) He finally relented and the night went well.
I remember a chance encounter I had back in the fall of 1966, Orr’s rookie season as an 18 year-old with the Boston Bruins.
I was raised in a small town in southwestern Ontario, about a 4 hour drive from Toronto in those days. My eldest brother was receiving his Masters degree at Convocation Hall at the University of Toronto on a Friday night. (I believe the late Carl Brewer, a wonderful player with the Leafs in the early 60’s who had retired from pro hockey for a time, was also receiving a degree that night.)
I was the youngest of the family and we drove up that day to attend the graduation ceremony. We had not announced our intentions early enough to obtain seats for everyone, so my Dad and I were the ones left to “stand”, while my Mom, sister and my brother’s fiancée found seating.
That night, I never got inside the auditorium. Instead we just stood in the hall, waiting for the lengthy event to end. (When you’re 13, hearing hundreds of names read out in sequence when you can’t even see the "action" was pretty dull stuff.)
With nothing to do but kill time, I roamed around the halls. My Dad was leaning up against a wall near the exit, reading a newspaper.
I happened to notice some men (they all seemed like fairly old guys to me) in a small group, sharing stories and having a few laughs. One of them, younger than the others, was taking part in the frivolity. What caught my eye was that the young guy seemed somehow familiar. To me, he looked like Bobby Orr.
Now to put things in context, back in 1966, we didn’t have the kind of media exposure that is common today for politicians, entertainers or athletes. I had seen Orr’s picture in the hometown newspaper’s sports pages, and maybe (maybe) had seen him interviewed on television on Hockey Night in Canada.
But this was Orr’s rookie season, and as ballyhooed as his arrival to the NHL was back then, I could not be sure of what I was seeing right in front of me.
I ran over to my Dad and told him that I thought I had just seen Bobby Orr. My Dad didn’t even look up from his newspaper. "Why would Bobby Orr be here?" he said. He wasn’t being sarcastic--simply, in his mind, realistic. Kids, after all, are prone to dramatize.
But I knew the Bruins were playing the Leafs in Toronto the next (Saturday) night, so I knew that Orr could be in Toronto, at least.
I went back to eavesdrop on the group’s conversation. Just at that moment, the young guy started to pull away from his friends, and I heard someone say, "See you, Bobby".
That was all I needed to hear. I hustled over to my father and announced what I heard, and pleaded with him to at least check this guy out. By now, even my Dad was sensing I may not be crazy. It so happened that the young fellow had to work his way through a crowded hall and walk by us to get to the exit.
It was a moment I no doubt sized up as a once-in-a-lifetime fluke that would not ever come my way again. With my hopeful eyes on the fast-developing situation, my Dad rose to the occasion and gently, but firmly, grabbed the young man by the arm as he hustled by.
"Excuse me", my Dad said to him. “This young man here thinks he knows you. Do you mind if I ask you your name?”
"Bob Orr", came the reply.
I’d hit the mother lode. My Dad said, "Shake hands with my son". I shook Orr’s hand, who was quiet, and gracious. He was only 5 years older than me, but honest to God, I might as well have been meeting Jesus. It was that big a deal to me.
When we had driven back to my older sister’s home (she lived in Mississauga, as I recall, though it wasn’t called that in those days, it was probably Port Credit) I thought not about my brother’s hard-earned academic achievement, which was the reason for our rare visit to the big city but about meeting the best young hockey player I had ever seen (and as it turns out, would ever see).
I joked about never washing my right hand again, and probably didn’t, for a time.
Certainly there are athletes today who are gracious and humble, and would be so in meeting a young admirer. But all too often you have to stand in line and then pay for the honor.
The world has changed in the last 40 years. Attitudes, media, technology, money.
Oh well.
It was nice to read about Orr’s comments on his special night in Oshawa. A man of 60 now, but still publicly humble and gracious.
Maybe Sean Avery will be that way 30 years from now. But if so, he’s got a long way to go.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Why young athletes need a little guidance…
That fans pay for autographs is no surprise. The custom of promoters bringing in sports celebrities to draw and crowd and earn money by charging an entry fee and/or charging an autograph fee has been in place for years.
I remember waiting with a friend in my Dad’s car back in the mid 1960’s in Windsor, Ontario, across from Detroit, for probably two hours on a mid-week winter evening, at a Canadian Tire, I think it was.
The attraction was Bobby Hull. He and his Chicago Black Hawks were scheduled to play the Red Wings in Detroit the next night.
He met with people for hours in a long line, and when we finally went through at the end of the line, he spoke with my Dad about farming, and signed my friend’s puck. No charge.
Of course, Hull was paid by the store for his appearance, but there was no “extra” charge to the fans.
Things are a little different today, of course.
A recent Canadian Press story out of Edmonton reported that some Edmonton Oiler fans were upset that the team’s two young star attractions, Sam Gagner and Andrew Cogliano, both 19, were signing autographs at a local “show”, but for a fee.
The fee was charged by those organizing the event.
The CP story reported that the players had little to say when asked about the fee. According the report:
Cogliano said the signing was part of his contract with AJ Sportsworld, but declined to comment further after being told not to talk to media.
Gagner, looking at the table in front of him and slumping his shoulders when asked why they're charging fans, declined to answer.
As someone who has been an advisor to coaches and athletes for many years, the thing that I found surprising about the story was not that there was a fee involved (people can certainly decline to attend these events if they don’t like the idea of paying for autographs), but that the young athletes, according to the story, seemed unprepared to answer questions about the issue.
Just as it’s fair game to charge for autographs, it’s fair game to be asked questions about it.
If you’re old enough to earn close to a million dollars a year (soon to be much more than that), as these players earn, and old enough to sign a contract with a promotion company that charges a steep price for your signature, you’re also old enough to be prepared to address any related questions thoughtfully and honestly.
If these young athletes were indeed “told” not to talk with the media, the question is why?
And if they weren’t prepared to answer questions candidly and openly about their role in the event, perhaps they should not have agreed to participate.
Or, better still, someone (an agent, the team’s public relations staff—someone) should have helped prepare them for the reaction of the media, and the fans.
Media reports indicate the players did try to explain what happened a day later, but the damage had already been done. Not irreparable, of course, but unnecessary damage none the less.
No preparation and “No comment” is rarely, if ever, a good approach to building trust with your audience.
I remember waiting with a friend in my Dad’s car back in the mid 1960’s in Windsor, Ontario, across from Detroit, for probably two hours on a mid-week winter evening, at a Canadian Tire, I think it was.
The attraction was Bobby Hull. He and his Chicago Black Hawks were scheduled to play the Red Wings in Detroit the next night.
He met with people for hours in a long line, and when we finally went through at the end of the line, he spoke with my Dad about farming, and signed my friend’s puck. No charge.
Of course, Hull was paid by the store for his appearance, but there was no “extra” charge to the fans.
Things are a little different today, of course.
A recent Canadian Press story out of Edmonton reported that some Edmonton Oiler fans were upset that the team’s two young star attractions, Sam Gagner and Andrew Cogliano, both 19, were signing autographs at a local “show”, but for a fee.
The fee was charged by those organizing the event.
The CP story reported that the players had little to say when asked about the fee. According the report:
Cogliano said the signing was part of his contract with AJ Sportsworld, but declined to comment further after being told not to talk to media.
Gagner, looking at the table in front of him and slumping his shoulders when asked why they're charging fans, declined to answer.
As someone who has been an advisor to coaches and athletes for many years, the thing that I found surprising about the story was not that there was a fee involved (people can certainly decline to attend these events if they don’t like the idea of paying for autographs), but that the young athletes, according to the story, seemed unprepared to answer questions about the issue.
Just as it’s fair game to charge for autographs, it’s fair game to be asked questions about it.
If you’re old enough to earn close to a million dollars a year (soon to be much more than that), as these players earn, and old enough to sign a contract with a promotion company that charges a steep price for your signature, you’re also old enough to be prepared to address any related questions thoughtfully and honestly.
If these young athletes were indeed “told” not to talk with the media, the question is why?
And if they weren’t prepared to answer questions candidly and openly about their role in the event, perhaps they should not have agreed to participate.
Or, better still, someone (an agent, the team’s public relations staff—someone) should have helped prepare them for the reaction of the media, and the fans.
Media reports indicate the players did try to explain what happened a day later, but the damage had already been done. Not irreparable, of course, but unnecessary damage none the less.
No preparation and “No comment” is rarely, if ever, a good approach to building trust with your audience.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Gillick sets an unusual example in sharing credit
Often, the first thing new Coaches or General Manager’s do when they take over from a “fired” or displaced predecessor is directly - or subtly - comment on all the work that needs to be done to rebuild the organization.
By making this claim publicly in the first days of their administration (much like an incoming political party who claims that things are much worse than they feared when they took office and “saw the books”, therefore they can’t afford to do what they promised they would do during the election campaign), it sets the expectation bar so low that any progress is seen as major improvement under their watch.
So it was refreshing to hear Philadelphia Phillies General Manager Pat Gillick give credit to Ed Wade, his predecessor as GM of the National League pennant-winning Phillies. So often when a team succeeds, you don’t hear about the earlier Coaches or Managers who actually also helped build the squad’s success.
Gillick’s comments reinforce the notion I’ve long held about him.
More than 30 years ago, when I was a young nobody working in radio on the smallest station in the Toronto radio market, the Toronto Blue Jays were the new expansion team. The team, under ‘PR’ oriented President and General Manager Peter Bavasi, was very aware of building the team’s profile, even with small-time radio folks with no “influence” such as myself. I was able to interview, at length, all the names in the Toronto front office, including Bavasi, manager Roy Hartsfield and of course Gillick, who had moved over from the Yankees organization, if I remember correctly. Gillick, now 71, was then an up and coming baseball guy. He was approachable, smart and worth interviewing because he had something to say. He became GM in Toronto and built the Jays into a World Series Champion.
My work took me to other situations and I never stayed in touch with Gillick. But I also recall that, somewhere along the way, my eldest son, then in Grade 7, sent Gillick a letter asking some questions for a school project. Gillick actually wrote back with some comments. While he didn’t disclose any state secrets, it was no form letter and I was impressed with the fact the he actually took the time to respond to specific questions posed by a 12-year-old kid. Gillick would not have been doing this because he “knew” me. He didn’t. He was simply the kind of person who would take the time to write back to a kid.
Gillick has been one of those universally respected guys in major league baseball for 30 years. Ed Wade would be among those who could tell you why.
By making this claim publicly in the first days of their administration (much like an incoming political party who claims that things are much worse than they feared when they took office and “saw the books”, therefore they can’t afford to do what they promised they would do during the election campaign), it sets the expectation bar so low that any progress is seen as major improvement under their watch.
So it was refreshing to hear Philadelphia Phillies General Manager Pat Gillick give credit to Ed Wade, his predecessor as GM of the National League pennant-winning Phillies. So often when a team succeeds, you don’t hear about the earlier Coaches or Managers who actually also helped build the squad’s success.
Gillick’s comments reinforce the notion I’ve long held about him.
More than 30 years ago, when I was a young nobody working in radio on the smallest station in the Toronto radio market, the Toronto Blue Jays were the new expansion team. The team, under ‘PR’ oriented President and General Manager Peter Bavasi, was very aware of building the team’s profile, even with small-time radio folks with no “influence” such as myself. I was able to interview, at length, all the names in the Toronto front office, including Bavasi, manager Roy Hartsfield and of course Gillick, who had moved over from the Yankees organization, if I remember correctly. Gillick, now 71, was then an up and coming baseball guy. He was approachable, smart and worth interviewing because he had something to say. He became GM in Toronto and built the Jays into a World Series Champion.
My work took me to other situations and I never stayed in touch with Gillick. But I also recall that, somewhere along the way, my eldest son, then in Grade 7, sent Gillick a letter asking some questions for a school project. Gillick actually wrote back with some comments. While he didn’t disclose any state secrets, it was no form letter and I was impressed with the fact the he actually took the time to respond to specific questions posed by a 12-year-old kid. Gillick would not have been doing this because he “knew” me. He didn’t. He was simply the kind of person who would take the time to write back to a kid.
Gillick has been one of those universally respected guys in major league baseball for 30 years. Ed Wade would be among those who could tell you why.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
An unforgettable moment of character and sportsmanship
The following article, from ESPN.com some weeks ago, is a wonderful story which expresses a number of sentiments, including the adage, "actions speak louder than words".
The story speaks for itself, and stands as a seemingly rare but tremendously important example of genuine sportsmanship.
NOTE: The author of the piece, Graham Hays, offers the following sidebar in his piece to clarify the rule central to this incident: "As one of the umpires involved in the game between Central Washington and Western Oregon confirmed in an e-mail to ESPN.com, the rule in question was misinterpreted on the field after Tucholsky's injury and later clarified by the NCAA. According to page 105, rule 8.5.3.2 of the NCAA softball rule book, "If an injury to a batter-runner or runner prevents her from proceeding to an awarded base, the ball is dead and the substitution can be made. The substitute must legally touch all awarded or missed bases not previously touched."
===
Central Washington offers the ultimate act of sportsmanship
by Graham Hays
Western Oregon senior Sara Tucholsky had never hit a home run in her career. Central Washington senior Mallory Holtman was already her school's career leader in them. But when a twist of fate and a torn knee ligament brought them face to face with each other and face to face with the end of their playing days, they combined on a home run trot that celebrated the collective human spirit far more than individual athletic achievement.
Both schools compete as Division II softball programs in the Great Northwest Athletic Conference. Neither has ever reached the NCAA tournament at the Division II level. But when they arrived for Saturday's conference doubleheader at Central Washington's 300-seat stadium in Ellensburg, a small town 100 miles and a mountain range removed from Seattle, the hosts resided one game behind the visitors at the top of the conference standings. As was the case at dozens of other diamonds across the map, two largely anonymous groups prepared to play the most meaningful games of their seasons.
It was a typical Saturday of softball in April, right down to a few overzealous fans heckling an easy target, the diminutive Tucholsky, when she came to the plate in the top of the second inning of the second game with two runners on base and the game still scoreless after Western Oregon's 8-1 win in the first game of the afternoon.
"I just remember trying to block them out," Tucholsky said of the hecklers. "The first pitch I took, it was a strike. And then I really don't remember where the home run pitch was at all; [I] just remember hitting it, and I knew it was out."
A part-time starter in the outfield throughout her four years, Tucholsky had been caught in a numbers game this season on a deep roster that entered the weekend hitting better than .280 and having won nine games in a row. Prior to the pitch she sent over the center-field fence, she had just three hits in 34 at-bats this season. And in that respect, her hitting heroics would have made for a pleasing, if familiar, story line on their own: an unsung player steps up in one of her final games and lifts her team's postseason chances.
But it was what happened after an overly excited Tucholsky missed first base on her home run trot and reversed direction to tag the bag that proved unforgettable.
"Sara is small -- she's like 5-2, really tiny," Western Oregon coach Pam Knox said. "So you would never think that she would hit a home run. The score was 0-0, and Sara hit a shot over center field. And I'm coaching third and I'm high-fiving the other two runners that came by -- then all of a sudden, I look up, and I'm like, 'Where's Sara?' And I look over, and she's in a heap beyond first base."
While she was doubling back to tag first base, Tucholsky's right knee gave out. The two runners who had been on base already had crossed home plate, leaving her the only offensive player on the field of play, even as she lay crumpled in the dirt a few feet from first base and a long way from home plate. First-base coach Shannon Prochaska -- Tucholsky's teammate for three seasons and the only voice she later remembered hearing in the ensuing conversation -- checked to see whether she could crawl back to the base under her own power.
As Knox explained, "It went through my mind, I thought, 'If I touch her, she's going to kill me.' It's her only home run in four years. I didn't want to take that from her, but at the same time, I was worried about her."
Umpires confirmed that the only option available under the rules was to replace Tucholsky at first base with a pinch runner and have the hit recorded as a two-run single instead of a three-run home run. Any assistance from coaches or trainers while she was an active runner would result in an out. So without any choice, Knox prepared to make the substitution, taking both the run and the memory from Tucholsky.
"And right then," Knox said, "I heard, 'Excuse me, would it be OK if we carried her around and she touched each bag?'"
The voice belonged to Holtman, a four-year starter who owns just about every major offensive record there is to claim in Central Washington's record book. She also is staring down a pair of knee surgeries as soon as the season ends. Her knees ache after every game, but having already used a redshirt season earlier in her career, and ready to move on to graduate school and coaching at Central, she put the operations on hold so as to avoid missing any of her final season. Now, with her own opportunity for a first postseason appearance very much hinging on the outcome of the game -- her final game at home -- she stepped up to help a player she knew only as an opponent for four years.
"Honestly, it's one of those things that I hope anyone would do it for me," Holtman said. "She hit the ball over her fence. She's a senior; it's her last year. … I don't know, it's just one of those things I guess that maybe because compared to everyone on the field at the time, I had been playing longer and knew we could touch her, it was my idea first. But I think anyone who knew that we could touch her would have offered to do it, just because it's the right thing to do. She was obviously in agony."
Holtman and shortstop Liz Wallace lifted Tucholsky off the ground and supported her weight between them as they began a slow trip around the bases, stopping at each one so Tucholsky's left foot could secure her passage onward. Even with Tucholsky feeling the pain of what trainers subsequently came to believe was a torn ACL (she was scheduled for tests to confirm the injury on Monday), the surreal quality of perhaps the longest and most crowded home run trot in the game's history hit all three players.
"We all started to laugh at one point, I think when we touched the first base," Holtman said. "I don't know what it looked like to observers, but it was kind of funny because Liz and I were carrying her on both sides and we'd get to a base and gently, barely tap her left foot, and we'd all of a sudden start to get the giggles a little bit."
Accompanied by a standing ovation from the fans, they finally reached home plate and passed the home run hitter into the arms of her own teammates.
Then Holtman and Wallace returned to their positions and tried to win the game.
Hollywood would have a difficult time deciding how such a script should end, whether to leave Tucholsky's home run as the decisive blow or reward the selfless actions of her opponents. Reality has less room for such philosophical quandaries. Central Washington did rally for two runs in the bottom of the second -- runs that might have tied the game had Knox been forced to replace Tucholsky -- but Western Oregon held on for a 4-2 win.
But unlike a movie, the credits didn't roll after the final out, and the story that continues has little to do with those final scores.
"It kept everything in perspective and the fact that we're never bigger than the game," Knox said of the experience. "It was such a lesson that we learned -- that it's not all about winning. And we forget that, because as coaches, we're always trying to get to the top. We forget that. But I will never, ever forget this moment. It's changed me, and I'm sure it's changed my players."
For her part, Holtman seems not altogether sure what all the fuss is about. She seems to genuinely believe that any player in her position on any field on any day would have done the same thing. Which helps explains why it did happen on that day and on that field.
And she appreciates the knowledge that while the results of Saturday's game and her senior season soon will fade into the dust and depth of old media guides and Internet archives, the story of what happened in her final game at home will live on far longer.
"I think that happening on Senior Day, it showed the character of our team," Holtman said. "Because granted I thought of it, but everyone else would have done it. It's something people will talk about for Senior Day. They won't talk about who got hits and what happened and who won; they'll talk about that. And it's kind of a nice way to go out, because it shows what our program is about and the kind of people we have here."
====
To view the article on ESPN.com, follow this link:
http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/columns/story?id=3372631
To read more of the writings of Graham Hays, follow this link:
http://search.espn.go.com/graham-hays/
The story speaks for itself, and stands as a seemingly rare but tremendously important example of genuine sportsmanship.
NOTE: The author of the piece, Graham Hays, offers the following sidebar in his piece to clarify the rule central to this incident: "As one of the umpires involved in the game between Central Washington and Western Oregon confirmed in an e-mail to ESPN.com, the rule in question was misinterpreted on the field after Tucholsky's injury and later clarified by the NCAA. According to page 105, rule 8.5.3.2 of the NCAA softball rule book, "If an injury to a batter-runner or runner prevents her from proceeding to an awarded base, the ball is dead and the substitution can be made. The substitute must legally touch all awarded or missed bases not previously touched."
===
Central Washington offers the ultimate act of sportsmanship
by Graham Hays
Western Oregon senior Sara Tucholsky had never hit a home run in her career. Central Washington senior Mallory Holtman was already her school's career leader in them. But when a twist of fate and a torn knee ligament brought them face to face with each other and face to face with the end of their playing days, they combined on a home run trot that celebrated the collective human spirit far more than individual athletic achievement.
Both schools compete as Division II softball programs in the Great Northwest Athletic Conference. Neither has ever reached the NCAA tournament at the Division II level. But when they arrived for Saturday's conference doubleheader at Central Washington's 300-seat stadium in Ellensburg, a small town 100 miles and a mountain range removed from Seattle, the hosts resided one game behind the visitors at the top of the conference standings. As was the case at dozens of other diamonds across the map, two largely anonymous groups prepared to play the most meaningful games of their seasons.
It was a typical Saturday of softball in April, right down to a few overzealous fans heckling an easy target, the diminutive Tucholsky, when she came to the plate in the top of the second inning of the second game with two runners on base and the game still scoreless after Western Oregon's 8-1 win in the first game of the afternoon.
"I just remember trying to block them out," Tucholsky said of the hecklers. "The first pitch I took, it was a strike. And then I really don't remember where the home run pitch was at all; [I] just remember hitting it, and I knew it was out."
A part-time starter in the outfield throughout her four years, Tucholsky had been caught in a numbers game this season on a deep roster that entered the weekend hitting better than .280 and having won nine games in a row. Prior to the pitch she sent over the center-field fence, she had just three hits in 34 at-bats this season. And in that respect, her hitting heroics would have made for a pleasing, if familiar, story line on their own: an unsung player steps up in one of her final games and lifts her team's postseason chances.
But it was what happened after an overly excited Tucholsky missed first base on her home run trot and reversed direction to tag the bag that proved unforgettable.
"Sara is small -- she's like 5-2, really tiny," Western Oregon coach Pam Knox said. "So you would never think that she would hit a home run. The score was 0-0, and Sara hit a shot over center field. And I'm coaching third and I'm high-fiving the other two runners that came by -- then all of a sudden, I look up, and I'm like, 'Where's Sara?' And I look over, and she's in a heap beyond first base."
While she was doubling back to tag first base, Tucholsky's right knee gave out. The two runners who had been on base already had crossed home plate, leaving her the only offensive player on the field of play, even as she lay crumpled in the dirt a few feet from first base and a long way from home plate. First-base coach Shannon Prochaska -- Tucholsky's teammate for three seasons and the only voice she later remembered hearing in the ensuing conversation -- checked to see whether she could crawl back to the base under her own power.
As Knox explained, "It went through my mind, I thought, 'If I touch her, she's going to kill me.' It's her only home run in four years. I didn't want to take that from her, but at the same time, I was worried about her."
Umpires confirmed that the only option available under the rules was to replace Tucholsky at first base with a pinch runner and have the hit recorded as a two-run single instead of a three-run home run. Any assistance from coaches or trainers while she was an active runner would result in an out. So without any choice, Knox prepared to make the substitution, taking both the run and the memory from Tucholsky.
"And right then," Knox said, "I heard, 'Excuse me, would it be OK if we carried her around and she touched each bag?'"
The voice belonged to Holtman, a four-year starter who owns just about every major offensive record there is to claim in Central Washington's record book. She also is staring down a pair of knee surgeries as soon as the season ends. Her knees ache after every game, but having already used a redshirt season earlier in her career, and ready to move on to graduate school and coaching at Central, she put the operations on hold so as to avoid missing any of her final season. Now, with her own opportunity for a first postseason appearance very much hinging on the outcome of the game -- her final game at home -- she stepped up to help a player she knew only as an opponent for four years.
"Honestly, it's one of those things that I hope anyone would do it for me," Holtman said. "She hit the ball over her fence. She's a senior; it's her last year. … I don't know, it's just one of those things I guess that maybe because compared to everyone on the field at the time, I had been playing longer and knew we could touch her, it was my idea first. But I think anyone who knew that we could touch her would have offered to do it, just because it's the right thing to do. She was obviously in agony."
Holtman and shortstop Liz Wallace lifted Tucholsky off the ground and supported her weight between them as they began a slow trip around the bases, stopping at each one so Tucholsky's left foot could secure her passage onward. Even with Tucholsky feeling the pain of what trainers subsequently came to believe was a torn ACL (she was scheduled for tests to confirm the injury on Monday), the surreal quality of perhaps the longest and most crowded home run trot in the game's history hit all three players.
"We all started to laugh at one point, I think when we touched the first base," Holtman said. "I don't know what it looked like to observers, but it was kind of funny because Liz and I were carrying her on both sides and we'd get to a base and gently, barely tap her left foot, and we'd all of a sudden start to get the giggles a little bit."
Accompanied by a standing ovation from the fans, they finally reached home plate and passed the home run hitter into the arms of her own teammates.
Then Holtman and Wallace returned to their positions and tried to win the game.
Hollywood would have a difficult time deciding how such a script should end, whether to leave Tucholsky's home run as the decisive blow or reward the selfless actions of her opponents. Reality has less room for such philosophical quandaries. Central Washington did rally for two runs in the bottom of the second -- runs that might have tied the game had Knox been forced to replace Tucholsky -- but Western Oregon held on for a 4-2 win.
But unlike a movie, the credits didn't roll after the final out, and the story that continues has little to do with those final scores.
"It kept everything in perspective and the fact that we're never bigger than the game," Knox said of the experience. "It was such a lesson that we learned -- that it's not all about winning. And we forget that, because as coaches, we're always trying to get to the top. We forget that. But I will never, ever forget this moment. It's changed me, and I'm sure it's changed my players."
For her part, Holtman seems not altogether sure what all the fuss is about. She seems to genuinely believe that any player in her position on any field on any day would have done the same thing. Which helps explains why it did happen on that day and on that field.
And she appreciates the knowledge that while the results of Saturday's game and her senior season soon will fade into the dust and depth of old media guides and Internet archives, the story of what happened in her final game at home will live on far longer.
"I think that happening on Senior Day, it showed the character of our team," Holtman said. "Because granted I thought of it, but everyone else would have done it. It's something people will talk about for Senior Day. They won't talk about who got hits and what happened and who won; they'll talk about that. And it's kind of a nice way to go out, because it shows what our program is about and the kind of people we have here."
====
To view the article on ESPN.com, follow this link:
http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/columns/story?id=3372631
To read more of the writings of Graham Hays, follow this link:
http://search.espn.go.com/graham-hays/
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Just because the shot went in...
I’m not among those who had a rooting interest in the recently completed NCAA basketball championships.
Kansas defeated an excellent Memphis team in overtime, a game that Memphis could certainly have won, with any luck at all.
The "winning" Kansas Coach, Bill Self, is of course now looking for a new multi-million dollar contract with, as he called it, "security". (How many millions a person needs for security is a topic for another day.)
But the comment from Self that I found noteworthy revolved around the fact that after Memphis missed some opportunities to score and salt the game away, one of Self’s Kansas players made a key shot to send the game into overtime, whereupon Kansas won going away.
Here’s the context for the comment from Self, as it appeared in a web story on ESPN.com
On Monday night, Chalmers' shot fell and Self soon had a national title on his resume. Still, he said he didn't think of himself as a different coach. "I don't think just because a guy makes a guarded shot with 2.1 seconds left makes me any different than if he hadn't made the shot," Self said.
Exactly.
How often in sports do we glorify the player whose shot went in, sometimes with a lot of luck, and then say, "what a clutch shot. He’s a great pressure player."
Another player might make a similar effort, but see the ball hit the back rim and not fall. Does one ‘made’ shot—sometimes the result of good fortune--make one player "better" than the other?
There's one particular game I'll always remember: Game 7 of the NHL Stanley Cup finals in 1971. The Blackhawks were leading the Montreal Canadiens in Game 7 in Chirago. It was 2-0 about mid-way through the game. The Habs could get nothing going against Chicago goalie Tony Esposito. The Hawks had already scored twice against Montreal rookie phenom Ken Dryden.
Hawk star Bobby Hull took a blistering wrist shot from just inside the blue line that clearly beat Dryden over the shoulder. The puck rocketed off the cross bar.
Not long after, Montreal forward Jacques Lemaire scored on a seemingly harmless slap shot from beyond the Chicago blue line, a puck that Esposito lost sight of but would normally have been a routine save.
Another fortuitous bounce a few minutes later off the back boards, and Montreal had tied the game 2-2 and went on to win 3-2 to capture the Cup.
The legend of Ken Dryden was born in full.
The point is, if Hull’s great shot has bounced off the cross bar and "in" to make the score 3-0, the game was over. It was simply good fortune, not great goaltending by Dryden, that saved the day. Hull made a great shot, it just didn’t go in, by a fraction of an inch.
But the Habs indeed took advantage of good breaks, and earned their victory.
Esposito never won a Cup, though he was a Hall-of-Fame goalie, to be sure.
Back to the present, would the Kansas Coach, as he put it, be any lesser a coach if his player’s last second shot had not made its way through the rim? Would all the strategy, hard work, planning--and months of game execution--been any less well done and have been a "failure" if that last shot didn’t go in?
Of course not.
But since we need to proclaim "winners" and "losers", "heroes" and "bums", we’ll say this Coach is a Champion, while the other is not.
The only difference, quite often, is a shot that didn’t fall, or a puck that bounced in the wrong (or right) direction, or a field goal that went two inches wide.
Kansas defeated an excellent Memphis team in overtime, a game that Memphis could certainly have won, with any luck at all.
The "winning" Kansas Coach, Bill Self, is of course now looking for a new multi-million dollar contract with, as he called it, "security". (How many millions a person needs for security is a topic for another day.)
But the comment from Self that I found noteworthy revolved around the fact that after Memphis missed some opportunities to score and salt the game away, one of Self’s Kansas players made a key shot to send the game into overtime, whereupon Kansas won going away.
Here’s the context for the comment from Self, as it appeared in a web story on ESPN.com
On Monday night, Chalmers' shot fell and Self soon had a national title on his resume. Still, he said he didn't think of himself as a different coach. "I don't think just because a guy makes a guarded shot with 2.1 seconds left makes me any different than if he hadn't made the shot," Self said.
Exactly.
How often in sports do we glorify the player whose shot went in, sometimes with a lot of luck, and then say, "what a clutch shot. He’s a great pressure player."
Another player might make a similar effort, but see the ball hit the back rim and not fall. Does one ‘made’ shot—sometimes the result of good fortune--make one player "better" than the other?
There's one particular game I'll always remember: Game 7 of the NHL Stanley Cup finals in 1971. The Blackhawks were leading the Montreal Canadiens in Game 7 in Chirago. It was 2-0 about mid-way through the game. The Habs could get nothing going against Chicago goalie Tony Esposito. The Hawks had already scored twice against Montreal rookie phenom Ken Dryden.
Hawk star Bobby Hull took a blistering wrist shot from just inside the blue line that clearly beat Dryden over the shoulder. The puck rocketed off the cross bar.
Not long after, Montreal forward Jacques Lemaire scored on a seemingly harmless slap shot from beyond the Chicago blue line, a puck that Esposito lost sight of but would normally have been a routine save.
Another fortuitous bounce a few minutes later off the back boards, and Montreal had tied the game 2-2 and went on to win 3-2 to capture the Cup.
The legend of Ken Dryden was born in full.
The point is, if Hull’s great shot has bounced off the cross bar and "in" to make the score 3-0, the game was over. It was simply good fortune, not great goaltending by Dryden, that saved the day. Hull made a great shot, it just didn’t go in, by a fraction of an inch.
But the Habs indeed took advantage of good breaks, and earned their victory.
Esposito never won a Cup, though he was a Hall-of-Fame goalie, to be sure.
Back to the present, would the Kansas Coach, as he put it, be any lesser a coach if his player’s last second shot had not made its way through the rim? Would all the strategy, hard work, planning--and months of game execution--been any less well done and have been a "failure" if that last shot didn’t go in?
Of course not.
But since we need to proclaim "winners" and "losers", "heroes" and "bums", we’ll say this Coach is a Champion, while the other is not.
The only difference, quite often, is a shot that didn’t fall, or a puck that bounced in the wrong (or right) direction, or a field goal that went two inches wide.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Buckner earns his due... far too late
I’m so pleased that Bill Buckner was recently recognized before a Red Sox game and given a long ovation by the local fans.
It has troubled me for years that one play from his career, his late inning error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, has been the one mark on his career that is constantly brought up.
In my memory, Buckner was the kind of player who could be on my team any day. Tough, he played with and through injuries. A lifetime batting average close to .300. Played hard and well for many years.
Unlike many of the ballplayers of the last 15 years, he was not, to anyone’s knowledge, a cheater by any standard.
Yet, he made one “error” in a game that Sox were not necessarily going to win anyway, and he was—and is—vilified by arm chair observers.
He and his family suffered through the aftermath. I quote at length from a recent Associated Press story:
The former first baseman knew the same old questions would crop up about that play 22 years ago that has been replayed on television hundreds of times. At first, he turned down the team's request. A few days later he agreed to return to Fenway Park for the first time since 1997 when he was batting coach with the Chicago White Sox.
"I really had to forgive," he said after collecting himself, "not the fans of Boston per se, but I would have to say, in my heart, I had to forgive the media..."
Another pause, this one for 10 seconds, before he continued, "...for what they put me and my family through. So I've done that. I'm over that. And I'm just happy that I just try to think of the positive. The happy things."
And not about the night of Oct. 25 in Shea Stadium when Mookie Wilson's ground ball rolled through his legs in the 10th inning. It capped a three-run rally and drove in the winning run in the New York Mets 6-5 win that forced a seventh game.
The Mets won the final game 8-5 and Boston's streak of no championships since 1918 continued. That drought ended in 2004, and then the Red Sox made it two championships in four years.
Buckner, a .289 hitter in 22 years with more than 100 RBIs in two of his three full seasons with Boston, wasn't the only Red Sox player who failed in the last two games of the 1986 Series. To focus on just one play is "the ugly part of sports," he said.
"I don't think that in society in general that's the way we should operate. What are you teaching kids? Not to try because if you don't succeed then you're going to buried [sic], so don't try?"
The Mets already had tied the game at 5 in the 10th against Calvin Schiraldi and Bob Stanley before Wilson hit the ball to Buckner. And the Red Sox led 3-0 after 5 1/3 innings of Game 7 before the Mets tied it against Bruce Hurst in the bottom of the sixth and nicked Schiraldi for three runs in the seventh.
"You can look at that series and point fingers in a whole bunch of different directions," Buckner said. "We did the best we could to win there and it just didn't happen and I didn't feel like I deserved" so much blame."
"If I felt like it was my fault, I'd step up to the plate and say, 'hey, if I wasn't here the Red Sox would have won this thing,' but I really can't do that so I think some of it is unjustly directed my way," he said. "I'm pretty tough mentally, but the hardest part was with my family and my kids and I'm still dealing with it."
Since I work with a lot of young athletes, I want to focus in particular on one of Buckner more poignant comments:
"I don't think that in society in general that's the way we should operate. What are you teaching kids? Not to try because if you don't succeed then you're going to buried, so don't try?"
Amen.
Here was a guy, good enough to be starting and playing in the World Series, who had a near Hall-of-Fame career, who simply made an error on a ball that didn’t quite bounce the way he expected it to bounce.
It is so easy when you’ve never played the game at a high level to criticize someone when they make a mistake at a “key moment” in a game. I’ve done it myself, for sure.
But the reaction to Buckner and his error in the ’86 World Series was so unfounded, so unfair, that it is heartwarming to see that he has been able to speak so eloquently about it, years later.
The media and its need to criticize in cases like this should not be easily forgiven. But apparently Buckner has, and he is a better person for having done so than those who have put him down over the years.
Maybe the rest of us can learn something. Or if it’s too late for us, at least maybe our kids can distinguish between what’s truly important, and what’s not, in sports, and in life.
Buckner and the ’86 Red Sox did not win the World Series. But for me, he is a champion.
It has troubled me for years that one play from his career, his late inning error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, has been the one mark on his career that is constantly brought up.
In my memory, Buckner was the kind of player who could be on my team any day. Tough, he played with and through injuries. A lifetime batting average close to .300. Played hard and well for many years.
Unlike many of the ballplayers of the last 15 years, he was not, to anyone’s knowledge, a cheater by any standard.
Yet, he made one “error” in a game that Sox were not necessarily going to win anyway, and he was—and is—vilified by arm chair observers.
He and his family suffered through the aftermath. I quote at length from a recent Associated Press story:
The former first baseman knew the same old questions would crop up about that play 22 years ago that has been replayed on television hundreds of times. At first, he turned down the team's request. A few days later he agreed to return to Fenway Park for the first time since 1997 when he was batting coach with the Chicago White Sox.
"I really had to forgive," he said after collecting himself, "not the fans of Boston per se, but I would have to say, in my heart, I had to forgive the media..."
Another pause, this one for 10 seconds, before he continued, "...for what they put me and my family through. So I've done that. I'm over that. And I'm just happy that I just try to think of the positive. The happy things."
And not about the night of Oct. 25 in Shea Stadium when Mookie Wilson's ground ball rolled through his legs in the 10th inning. It capped a three-run rally and drove in the winning run in the New York Mets 6-5 win that forced a seventh game.
The Mets won the final game 8-5 and Boston's streak of no championships since 1918 continued. That drought ended in 2004, and then the Red Sox made it two championships in four years.
Buckner, a .289 hitter in 22 years with more than 100 RBIs in two of his three full seasons with Boston, wasn't the only Red Sox player who failed in the last two games of the 1986 Series. To focus on just one play is "the ugly part of sports," he said.
"I don't think that in society in general that's the way we should operate. What are you teaching kids? Not to try because if you don't succeed then you're going to buried [sic], so don't try?"
The Mets already had tied the game at 5 in the 10th against Calvin Schiraldi and Bob Stanley before Wilson hit the ball to Buckner. And the Red Sox led 3-0 after 5 1/3 innings of Game 7 before the Mets tied it against Bruce Hurst in the bottom of the sixth and nicked Schiraldi for three runs in the seventh.
"You can look at that series and point fingers in a whole bunch of different directions," Buckner said. "We did the best we could to win there and it just didn't happen and I didn't feel like I deserved" so much blame."
"If I felt like it was my fault, I'd step up to the plate and say, 'hey, if I wasn't here the Red Sox would have won this thing,' but I really can't do that so I think some of it is unjustly directed my way," he said. "I'm pretty tough mentally, but the hardest part was with my family and my kids and I'm still dealing with it."
Since I work with a lot of young athletes, I want to focus in particular on one of Buckner more poignant comments:
"I don't think that in society in general that's the way we should operate. What are you teaching kids? Not to try because if you don't succeed then you're going to buried, so don't try?"
Amen.
Here was a guy, good enough to be starting and playing in the World Series, who had a near Hall-of-Fame career, who simply made an error on a ball that didn’t quite bounce the way he expected it to bounce.
It is so easy when you’ve never played the game at a high level to criticize someone when they make a mistake at a “key moment” in a game. I’ve done it myself, for sure.
But the reaction to Buckner and his error in the ’86 World Series was so unfounded, so unfair, that it is heartwarming to see that he has been able to speak so eloquently about it, years later.
The media and its need to criticize in cases like this should not be easily forgiven. But apparently Buckner has, and he is a better person for having done so than those who have put him down over the years.
Maybe the rest of us can learn something. Or if it’s too late for us, at least maybe our kids can distinguish between what’s truly important, and what’s not, in sports, and in life.
Buckner and the ’86 Red Sox did not win the World Series. But for me, he is a champion.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Wild do the right thing
There are many different ways to communicate.
In the following case, actions speak louder than words.
This week, the Minnesota Wild announced they would offer a seriously injured player a contract, even though, technically, they are not required to do so to retain his playing rights.
The player is Kurtis Foster, a young defenseman who suffered a badly broken leg in a controversial icing-play incident.
Wire stories reported that Wild GM Doug Risebrough had already decided on a course of action.
One story, from TSN.com, reports that the Wild are not sure if Foster will be able to play in the NHL again, because of the seriousness of the injury.
"I don't have to qualify him [to retain his rights], but I will," Risebrough told the (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune. "It's a bad message not to do that. He's a good player. He needs a motivation [to rehab], and he doesn't need that stress in his life."
The Wild will offer Foster a one-year, $1.025 million contract before the June 25 deadline, which insurance would not have covered according to Wild assistant general manager Tom Lynn.
The professional sports world often reflects a kind of ego-driven and self-centered attitude, an environment which can be very cold and all about “business”.
In this instance, it seems clear that the Wild recognize that one of their own was hurt while in the line of duty, and they aren’t prepared to let him worry about his immediate future.
They have sent a message and they have done the right—and honorable—thing.
In the following case, actions speak louder than words.
This week, the Minnesota Wild announced they would offer a seriously injured player a contract, even though, technically, they are not required to do so to retain his playing rights.
The player is Kurtis Foster, a young defenseman who suffered a badly broken leg in a controversial icing-play incident.
Wire stories reported that Wild GM Doug Risebrough had already decided on a course of action.
One story, from TSN.com, reports that the Wild are not sure if Foster will be able to play in the NHL again, because of the seriousness of the injury.
"I don't have to qualify him [to retain his rights], but I will," Risebrough told the (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune. "It's a bad message not to do that. He's a good player. He needs a motivation [to rehab], and he doesn't need that stress in his life."
The Wild will offer Foster a one-year, $1.025 million contract before the June 25 deadline, which insurance would not have covered according to Wild assistant general manager Tom Lynn.
The professional sports world often reflects a kind of ego-driven and self-centered attitude, an environment which can be very cold and all about “business”.
In this instance, it seems clear that the Wild recognize that one of their own was hurt while in the line of duty, and they aren’t prepared to let him worry about his immediate future.
They have sent a message and they have done the right—and honorable—thing.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
A damaging double-standard
"Rocker rats out Texas
John Rocker claims he flunked a drug test ordered by Major League Baseball in 2000 and that he, Alex Rodriguez and other Texas Rangers were advised on how to effectively use steroids"
It’s revealing how the above media headline blares "Rocker rats out Texas"….
As we have mentioned often in this space, many in the media hate it when athletes "say nothing". Yet, when an athlete does step "outside the box" and say something outside the realm of the bland or ordinary, he or she is often condemned by those same media folks.
In this circumstance, we have a former high-profile major-leaguer stating that, basically, clubs knew about steroid use years ago. This is no real shock to anyone, of course.
Can we really believe that baseball commissioner Bud Selig was totally unaware of baseball’s bulked up athletes hitting balls farther than ever before, and home runs in greater numbers than ever before?
But the point here is this: athletes are glorified by the same media who had to know that many of these sporting heroes of the last 20 years have had big-time, shall we say, "help", from performance-enhancing supplements.
In the same breath, reporters and writers criticize athletes for lying through their teeth about steroid usage. (Many of us have witnessed the recent Clemens fiasco before Congress—his was simply a different approach than Mark McGuire’s "I’m not here to talk about the past" denials when the former slugger had his turn a couple of years ago.)
Yet, the media also hammer an athlete like Rocker for being a squealer, or a "rat".
If somebody doesn’t step forward and speak about what actually occurred, whether it be Jose Canseco or John Rocker or anyone else, how will people ever really know what has gone on in club houses?
Is the media philosophy actually supportive of the "old boys network" approach, where everyone covers up the truth and covers up for each other?
That’s how we ended up with baseball in the mess it is in, the world of sprinting with no credibility, the Tour de France in shambles, pro football with weekly drug suspensions announced, without fanfare.
In the above circumstances, everyone shut their eyes – and mouths-- and stood together in a big lie.
Unless, as in the case of a "star" such as Andy Petite, you face legal scrutiny and have to speak with the police or Congress. Then you may feel it is necessary to speak up and speak the truth, and the media will not give you a difficult time.
But if you’re just a mediocre ex-player, or "disgraced" ex-players such as Canseco or Rocker, you’re a "snitch" if you speak out about what you did or saw.
Quite the double-standard, at best.
John Rocker claims he flunked a drug test ordered by Major League Baseball in 2000 and that he, Alex Rodriguez and other Texas Rangers were advised on how to effectively use steroids"
It’s revealing how the above media headline blares "Rocker rats out Texas"….
As we have mentioned often in this space, many in the media hate it when athletes "say nothing". Yet, when an athlete does step "outside the box" and say something outside the realm of the bland or ordinary, he or she is often condemned by those same media folks.
In this circumstance, we have a former high-profile major-leaguer stating that, basically, clubs knew about steroid use years ago. This is no real shock to anyone, of course.
Can we really believe that baseball commissioner Bud Selig was totally unaware of baseball’s bulked up athletes hitting balls farther than ever before, and home runs in greater numbers than ever before?
But the point here is this: athletes are glorified by the same media who had to know that many of these sporting heroes of the last 20 years have had big-time, shall we say, "help", from performance-enhancing supplements.
In the same breath, reporters and writers criticize athletes for lying through their teeth about steroid usage. (Many of us have witnessed the recent Clemens fiasco before Congress—his was simply a different approach than Mark McGuire’s "I’m not here to talk about the past" denials when the former slugger had his turn a couple of years ago.)
Yet, the media also hammer an athlete like Rocker for being a squealer, or a "rat".
If somebody doesn’t step forward and speak about what actually occurred, whether it be Jose Canseco or John Rocker or anyone else, how will people ever really know what has gone on in club houses?
Is the media philosophy actually supportive of the "old boys network" approach, where everyone covers up the truth and covers up for each other?
That’s how we ended up with baseball in the mess it is in, the world of sprinting with no credibility, the Tour de France in shambles, pro football with weekly drug suspensions announced, without fanfare.
In the above circumstances, everyone shut their eyes – and mouths-- and stood together in a big lie.
Unless, as in the case of a "star" such as Andy Petite, you face legal scrutiny and have to speak with the police or Congress. Then you may feel it is necessary to speak up and speak the truth, and the media will not give you a difficult time.
But if you’re just a mediocre ex-player, or "disgraced" ex-players such as Canseco or Rocker, you’re a "snitch" if you speak out about what you did or saw.
Quite the double-standard, at best.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Tilghman story an opportunity to educate, rather than punish
The comment by Golf Channel anchor Kelly Tilghman that led to her two-week suspension was clearly an attempt, under the bright lights of live television, to make a witty remark.
That her reference to Tiger Woods and "lynching" brought reaction was not a surprise.
Her friendship with Tiger Woods, at whom the jesting comment was directed, helped alleviate what could have been an even more severe network—and public—reaction.
Woods said, essentially, that he was friends with Tilghman; that she was not trying to be hurtful and that we all make comments that we wish we had not made.
Interestingly, former NFL great Jim Brown, a person of color who has a long history working with troubled inner-city youths, commented publicly that he would have liked to have seen Tiger take a stronger public stand.
This is not the first time Brown has called upon Woods to do more in this area.
But surely everyone, including Brown, Woods and many of the rest of us, have indeed, as Tiger mentioned, made comments we wish we could take back, upon reflection.
The reference to “lynching”, an explosive word to be sure, was obviously unfortunate and in poor taste given the context in which it was used.
But the real opportunity here, it would seem, is to use this inadvertent error by Tilghman to educate people, young and old, about why the word can be offensive to the African-American community, and to thoughtful people everywhere.
This is an ideal opportunity, not to make an example of Tilghman, but to bring forward the terrible events that led to this word becoming an understandably sensitive subject. This can be done in schools and through the media at large.
If we only penalize and judge, and never instruct, how will young people, for example, ever really learn about history and social injustice, whether it be the treatment of minorities in the U.S. or how Jews and others were treated by the Nazi regime in the Second World War?
When a public figure clearly, and intentionally, makes hurtful and thoughtless comments, that is one thing.
In this instance, it is an opportunity not for punishment, but for discussion, education, and for creating genuine awareness and learning.
That her reference to Tiger Woods and "lynching" brought reaction was not a surprise.
Her friendship with Tiger Woods, at whom the jesting comment was directed, helped alleviate what could have been an even more severe network—and public—reaction.
Woods said, essentially, that he was friends with Tilghman; that she was not trying to be hurtful and that we all make comments that we wish we had not made.
Interestingly, former NFL great Jim Brown, a person of color who has a long history working with troubled inner-city youths, commented publicly that he would have liked to have seen Tiger take a stronger public stand.
This is not the first time Brown has called upon Woods to do more in this area.
But surely everyone, including Brown, Woods and many of the rest of us, have indeed, as Tiger mentioned, made comments we wish we could take back, upon reflection.
The reference to “lynching”, an explosive word to be sure, was obviously unfortunate and in poor taste given the context in which it was used.
But the real opportunity here, it would seem, is to use this inadvertent error by Tilghman to educate people, young and old, about why the word can be offensive to the African-American community, and to thoughtful people everywhere.
This is an ideal opportunity, not to make an example of Tilghman, but to bring forward the terrible events that led to this word becoming an understandably sensitive subject. This can be done in schools and through the media at large.
If we only penalize and judge, and never instruct, how will young people, for example, ever really learn about history and social injustice, whether it be the treatment of minorities in the U.S. or how Jews and others were treated by the Nazi regime in the Second World War?
When a public figure clearly, and intentionally, makes hurtful and thoughtless comments, that is one thing.
In this instance, it is an opportunity not for punishment, but for discussion, education, and for creating genuine awareness and learning.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Loyalty for athletes, but not their coaches?
College football coaches—and pro, for that matter—in the United States are known for preaching constantly about teamwork and loyalty.
They do this with goods reason. Football is obviously a demanding sport, physically and psychologically, and there are obvious benefits to working together as a tight-knit group to achieve difficult goals against top competition.
Ironically, however, many of these same individuals simply do not practice what they preach.
Every December, we see a number of high-profile College football coaches leaving their team before the current NCAA season is even finished to accept a coaching position elsewhere.
Two recent examples of how individuals put themselves ahead of their athletes and their schools and programs come from Bobby Petrino and Rich Rodriguez.
Petrino left his job as head Coach of the NFL Atlanta Falcons literally less than 24 hours after coaching the team on Monday Night football to take a job with the University of Arkansas.
Clearly, while he was supposedly preparing his struggling pro team to play a league game, he was also negotiating with officials at Arkansas.
That is a no-no.
In a similar vein, Rodriguez was recruited by the University of Michigan in the weeks before his Western Virginia team played in an important Bowl game. He has since been sued by the University of West Virginia, according to various published reports, and has expressed disappointment that he would be treated in that manner.
It is impossible to believe how these individuals can preach loyalty when they are prepared to leave a team in the midst of a season for a "better opportunity" elsewhere.
Rodriguez, ironically, did not even coach Michigan in their upset Bowl victory over Florida. Just as interestingly, his former West Virginia team, also an underdog, played inspired football in beating their Bowl opponent Oklahoma with an Assistant Coach running the show.
It’s easy to understand that coaches want job security. But when you already have that, and you leave the players, especially at the college level, that you yourself recruited and convinced to come to your school, it is very hard to understand.
A year ago it was Nick Saban insisting he was not leaving the Miami Dolphins for the University of Alabama, only to wisk off to a press conference to announce that he was indeed taking the Alabama job.
If you are a young student athlete thinking about going to University in the U.S. to play football, based on a particular coach, you may be well advised to ensure you are going to that University for a number of good reasons, not simply because of the "Coach".
Otherwise, you may hear a lot of words and a lot of promises, and end up feeling as though you were left at the altar.
They do this with goods reason. Football is obviously a demanding sport, physically and psychologically, and there are obvious benefits to working together as a tight-knit group to achieve difficult goals against top competition.
Ironically, however, many of these same individuals simply do not practice what they preach.
Every December, we see a number of high-profile College football coaches leaving their team before the current NCAA season is even finished to accept a coaching position elsewhere.
Two recent examples of how individuals put themselves ahead of their athletes and their schools and programs come from Bobby Petrino and Rich Rodriguez.
Petrino left his job as head Coach of the NFL Atlanta Falcons literally less than 24 hours after coaching the team on Monday Night football to take a job with the University of Arkansas.
Clearly, while he was supposedly preparing his struggling pro team to play a league game, he was also negotiating with officials at Arkansas.
That is a no-no.
In a similar vein, Rodriguez was recruited by the University of Michigan in the weeks before his Western Virginia team played in an important Bowl game. He has since been sued by the University of West Virginia, according to various published reports, and has expressed disappointment that he would be treated in that manner.
It is impossible to believe how these individuals can preach loyalty when they are prepared to leave a team in the midst of a season for a "better opportunity" elsewhere.
Rodriguez, ironically, did not even coach Michigan in their upset Bowl victory over Florida. Just as interestingly, his former West Virginia team, also an underdog, played inspired football in beating their Bowl opponent Oklahoma with an Assistant Coach running the show.
It’s easy to understand that coaches want job security. But when you already have that, and you leave the players, especially at the college level, that you yourself recruited and convinced to come to your school, it is very hard to understand.
A year ago it was Nick Saban insisting he was not leaving the Miami Dolphins for the University of Alabama, only to wisk off to a press conference to announce that he was indeed taking the Alabama job.
If you are a young student athlete thinking about going to University in the U.S. to play football, based on a particular coach, you may be well advised to ensure you are going to that University for a number of good reasons, not simply because of the "Coach".
Otherwise, you may hear a lot of words and a lot of promises, and end up feeling as though you were left at the altar.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
It's all about... me.
In an English Premiership soccer tilt this past December, powerhouse Manchester United was in full control of a game against a lesser opponent.
With a 3-0 lead, emerging star Carlo Tevez had scored twice already in the contest.
Fairly late in the contest, United was awarded a penalty kick. Cristiano Ronaldo prepared to handle the shot, as he is the player designated by Coach Sir Alex Ferguson to take such opportunities.
When Tevez quietly approached Ronaldo, the team’s “superstar”, to ask if he could take the kick to complete his “hat trick”, Ronaldo reportedly said “no”.
Ego and self-interest have always been a huge part of sport. In fact, many would argue that those are “qualities” that top athletes need, along with self-confidence, to ensure their success at the highest levels.
But Ronaldo’s response was a flawed one, nonetheless.
It is understandable that a proud athlete like Ronaldo would want to take that kick, as that is one of his designated jobs with United.
Perhaps he said “no” to his own teammate, Tevez, and later regretted it, though this is unlikely given Ronaldo’s history.
It could also happen that a player would let Tevez, or any other teammate, take his place in such a situation, and do the “right” thing publicly, but privately be unhappy about it.
This response would be quite human.
But the true leader, the real “team player”, would take it upon himself to give the opportunity to a teammate. He wouldn’t wait to be asked.
It could be argued that Tevez was being selfish, too, by even making that request; that he was putting his own personal glory ahead of his team.
But an athlete with class would not even have to be asked. He would have gone over to Tevez and insisted his young teammate take the shot.
That it didn’t happen is not a surprise. Just disappointing, and yet another poor example for young athletes around the globe.
With a 3-0 lead, emerging star Carlo Tevez had scored twice already in the contest.
Fairly late in the contest, United was awarded a penalty kick. Cristiano Ronaldo prepared to handle the shot, as he is the player designated by Coach Sir Alex Ferguson to take such opportunities.
When Tevez quietly approached Ronaldo, the team’s “superstar”, to ask if he could take the kick to complete his “hat trick”, Ronaldo reportedly said “no”.
Ego and self-interest have always been a huge part of sport. In fact, many would argue that those are “qualities” that top athletes need, along with self-confidence, to ensure their success at the highest levels.
But Ronaldo’s response was a flawed one, nonetheless.
It is understandable that a proud athlete like Ronaldo would want to take that kick, as that is one of his designated jobs with United.
Perhaps he said “no” to his own teammate, Tevez, and later regretted it, though this is unlikely given Ronaldo’s history.
It could also happen that a player would let Tevez, or any other teammate, take his place in such a situation, and do the “right” thing publicly, but privately be unhappy about it.
This response would be quite human.
But the true leader, the real “team player”, would take it upon himself to give the opportunity to a teammate. He wouldn’t wait to be asked.
It could be argued that Tevez was being selfish, too, by even making that request; that he was putting his own personal glory ahead of his team.
But an athlete with class would not even have to be asked. He would have gone over to Tevez and insisted his young teammate take the shot.
That it didn’t happen is not a surprise. Just disappointing, and yet another poor example for young athletes around the globe.
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