Disgusting Fandom

Punishing hits and injuries are not the goals of professional sports. No points are awarded for violence, and victories are not measured in broken bones. When a fullback throws a block, or a linebacker delivers a hit, it is not with the intention (or at least should not be) to injure or intimidate. The action on the field is fierce and physical because it has to be, due to the nature of the game. Defensive players have to tackle hard because offensive players are strong and agile, not because there is anything good about being carted off the field or ending up with permanent physical damage.

Unfortunately, to the ordinary viewer, we don’t grasp that the fierce hits we see in football are made possible by sound fundamentals and years of strengthening. Most football fans have never strapped up pads and taken a bone-shattering hit from a defender, and so our understanding of the tactful nuances of a play can be reduced to a thirst for blood. Yesterday, in Kansas City, this pitfall of our culture was put on a grand stage in Arrowhead Stadium as the Chiefs took on the Baltimore Ravens. KC’s struggling quarterback Matt Cassel took a hit from a defender that resulted in a concussion. He was walked off the field, and as he was escorted to the locker room, the home fans cheered the defense that knocked him out.

“We are not gladiators. This is not the Roman Coliseum,” is how Chiefs offensive lineman Eric Winston reacted to the barbaric response of the home fans. Winston echoed what hopefully any rational fan would believe when he called the response of the home fans “absolutely disgusting.”

I would like to believe that I would have taken the higher ground this situation if I were a KC fan. I would hope that my knowledge of sports and my compassion as a human being would have superseded the temptation to resort to the lowest common denominator. But, hearing the roar that came out of the 70,000 seat stadium makes me wonder if I would have been able to resist. Surely there were good, decent fans that found themselves cheering on the injury.  So what is it about football that makes us think that our natural tendencies to show compassion and offer forgiveness don’t apply when we watch sports? Is it because professional athletes get paid so much? Is it because sports networks highlight rough hits as a part of their marketing rather than skillful play calling? Or are we really just bad people? I don’t think we are hopelessly evil, but I think that this incident reveals how dumbed-down our sports culture is.

Like a great symphony, great sports require a large number of great players working in tandem, under the coordination of a great leader to be beautiful. And like classical music, classic football is most appreciated by people who take the time to understand it, and appreciate its intricacies. Unfortunately, it seems rare these days that we are taking the time to teach the fundamentals and intricacies of football and other sports to our youth. Coaching defense is too often reduced to pure violence, and children are suffering both physically, psychologically, and in their knowledge of the game. Not only are children being taught blind aggression instead of important life lessons, but they are not as good in sports when coaches skip the fundamentals.

So let’s get back to the basics. When we coach sports, let’s teach our kids the fundamentals of sports, and how skillful and truly artistic they are. Hopefully then we will be able to show them that a trip to a game is closer to an evening at the opera rather than a night at a cage fight.

Lucky to Know Him

It was just over 3 years ago that I met Manti Te’o. It was probably 11 PM, and he walked into Nick’s Patio, a local late-night hot spot that attracts droves of hungry undergrads. Some football players were grabbing some late-night grub after the beginning of the first week of preseason camp. Recognizing Manti from the über-hype, I approached him and asked him for his autograph. I wished him the best of luck starting his career.

When I returned to my table, I told the people I was with that that kid was going to be great.

We didn’t have a profound conversation or talk about football, but I could tell that anyone who had been the talk of ESPN recruiting analysts for months and still carry himself with humility and class would be a perfect storm for a college program. And he has proved to be over the last 4 seasons here in South Bend. Te’o has proved to be a star on and off the field. Te’o will garner much attention as an almost certain first-team All American this year, but that’s not even half of who this stout Hawaiian is. As a Notre Dame student, he has been an active member of his dorm, community service within the athletic department, and a devout member of his church, the church of Latter Day Saints. Notre Dame Football Coach Brian Kelly calls him a “once in a lifetime athlete,” and Athletics Director Jack Swarbrick says he epitomizes everything a Notre Dame student athlete should be.

And this pillar of the Notre Dame community has endured great heartache in the last week. As has been well documented, his grandmother and his girlfriend both died last week. Suddenly the anchor of a defense, and in many ways, a student body, has needed people to lean on. And people have responded. Friends and “foes” (opposing fans) have reached out to Te’o offering prayers and support for this loyal son Notre Dame. And certainly, we at Play Like a Champion Today® echo those sentiments. To be put through such a trial during a year that should be marked by success and fun is no easy task, and Manti is dealing with it with pure grace. When a reporter asked him after the Michigan State game that the Irish won 20-3 could have gone better, he responded "Yeah, I could call my girlfriend right now and talk about the game.” He continued, "but I've just got to get on my knees, say a prayer and I can talk to her that way.”

Through this incredibly tough time, I, an ND grad, am tempted to say that Manti Te’o is lucky to be a Notre Dame student, and to have the love of so many peers that is a hallmark of the this school. But getting to see how this young man reacts to adversity, success, pain, and glory lets me know that we are the lucky ones to call him friend, player and brother.

Making History

I remember in 9^th grade history class, we had a many lively discussions about historical figures. Mr. McNamara would challenge me and my classmates on a continuing theme throughout the year. When we would encounter a major historical figure, he would ask us: “Did this person make history or did history make this person?” Not having seen much of the world at the in my rather ordinary 14 years on the planet, it was hard for me to recognize who was a real difference maker, and who was merely in the right place and right time.

But any teenager could tell you that this football season, Erin DiMeglio is making history. She is the first female to play quarterback for her high school team in the state of Florida. And for anyone familiar with football in the Sunshine State, you know that they come suiting up in the south is no cake walk. Teammates call her a hard worker, and coaches and fans know that she is not taking any handouts on her way to success on the gridiron.

Growing up in a country where the only legitimate option for women to play professional televised football involves suiting up in a bra and panties, you would think DiMeglio might opt for a sport that values women’s athletic talent, rather than merely their physical appearance. But Erin obviously isn’t the type to have history make her. She pursues what makes her happy, and that’s why she is the type that makes history.

Erin DiMeglio is not trying to prove anything grand. She’s not an advocate, not a politician, and the only agenda she has is the one that she writes her homework in. She’s just a natural athlete, who loves football. She’s not concerned so much with buzz words like “barriers to entry” or “trailblazer.” She’s wanted to play the sport she loves, and now she is doing it. So while she may be laying the foundations for generations of young girls, she is teaching us something more universal, and no less significant: follow your dreams, and have fun. DiMeglio is not only living a life that future women will be inspired by, but one that inspires me as a fan, reader, and person.

Erin is making history the way most greats do: by doing what feels natural, despite any sort of societal pressure that might discourage that (keep in mind there are over 1 million boys playing HS football in America, and 700 girls). Like others, her legacy will be felt for generations, and people will admire her courage. But DiMeglio enjoys an impact not all history-makers enjoy: she’s changing the life of everyone who reads about her today.

'Tis the Season

And so it begins.

Last night the first college football games of the season were played around the country. Years of hard work paid off for many young men who played for the first time on the collegiate stage, and for many fans, the sounds, sights, and smells of the season has begun to enchant their lives for yet another year of pageantry.

We love football in this country. It seems we always have. We have found ways to love football that we once might have either deemed impossible or we might have laughed at for their insignificance. We once packed the stadiums around our fair nation, rooted for our beloved teams, screamed our heads off, and then left the games, only to hope for victory in the next week, or in the next season. Players worked construction in the summer, and hoped for jobs in medicine, law, business, education, and the like after graduation.

Things are a bit different now. We have 4 channels of one TV network following every facet of college football from quarterback play to the dietary habits of the defensive linemen, year-round. We follow the twitter accounts of pre-adolescent “phenoms” making college commitments that are, for them, half a lifetime away. Players and coaches are now suggesting that players should be paid.

I don’t mean to intimate that the evolutions in the game are cheap or bad in some way. Although I cannot seem to escape them, and in some small way I pine for a simpler sport, I admit I love being able to read the latest buzz on Notre Dame Football, whether it is in the heart of autumn or in middle of spring. The one thing I do warn against is that it is hard to remove one aspect of the college football experience from another: good or bad. As we build up college football into a powerful “industry,” we run into the same kinds of problems that we encounter with other powers: corruption, greed, and sometimes scandal. Why was a guy like Jerry Sandusky seen as “untouchable” by so many people? OUR love and patronage (bordering on obsession) gave him that influence.

So as we begin this new season of a brilliant, beautiful sport, let’s remind ourselves of the same things we remind our kids of as we drive home from a soccer game: it is just a game. Just because we have followed some recruits since they were still learning state capitals doesn’t make them grown men, equipped to take on aggressive criticism from gridiron pundits. Just because they play under the lights doesn’t mean that they don’t still study for philosophy exams or deal with the pain of being away from home. We will be doing the sport a favor by keeping it in perspective, so as to avoid the trappings of any being that allows power and influence overtake it.

Don’t get me wrong. There can be a happy medium where we can get excited by watching a YouTube video of an 8-year-old express his intent to play for the Fighting Irish, and still maintain a proper level of reality in college football, but begins and ends with US, the fans.

The Best of Sport: Citius, Altius, Fortius

This is the final installment of the series on the Best and Worst of Sports, chronicling the 2012 Olympics and the Scandal at Penn State University.

The 4 X 400m men’s Olympic final was one of the coolest things that I’ve ever seen. No record was set and the country I rooted for didn’t win, but for 3 minutes, such a tremendous display of humanity was put forth on the track at Olympic Stadium in London, nearly leaving me breathless as I watched.

The Bahamas took home the Gold in the relay, a race that is typically the pinnacle event of every track meet. The Bahamas? Really? If it weren’t for the Beach Boys and postcards, I don’t even know if I would know the Bahamas existed! And yet, out of obscurity comes the fastest team on earth at that distance. How beautiful is that—that a country the size of Connecticut, with the population that rivals Bakersfield, California, could defeat the largest, and most talent-filled countries on the planet. And isn’t that a wonderful lesson: Grandeur pales in comparison with hard work, dedication, and commitment to excellence.

The second lesson I learned watching the race was learned seeing something that in my lifetime, I hadn’t seen before: the United States not winning the Gold medal in the event. Only five times in the history of the modern Games has this been the case. And yet there was not bitterness or disappointment from the Americans. They were beat in the world’s most objective sport, and they lost. They still WON a silver medal, even after two of their best athletes had been taken out with injury. But they were grateful for the opportunity to compete. How awesome and oft-forgotten is that? Sport is enjoyable, and it’s a joy simply to compete. You could see that, too in the last-place finishers in the race: the South African Team. The much publicized Oscar Pistorius, running on two prosthetic legs, running in his first Olympics, anchored the historic run for the South Africans. The team had only been allowed to run after they had protested their disappointing finish in the semi-final due to a nasty fall. And yet there was such gratitude in their athletes! How often do we pout after we lose a game or we have a call go against us? The 4 X 400 reminded me of yet another important lesson: The joy of competition is not in winning, but in competing.

Most people that compete in the Olympics lose. In fact, almost ALL athletes lose. Many athletes train their whole lives to come to the Olympics and lose in the first heat of a 10 second race. Why do they fly across the world and why do we watch? It’s because the Olympics has more to do with being better than the best. If your focus is self-improvement, it is entirely up to you if you can succeed. In competing, we cannot predict the valor of an opponent, but we can control our pursuit of excellence. We participate because it’s fun, and we continue because there is something in us that pushes us to do the “more.”

After all, the motto of the Olympics is not “Fastest, Highest, Strongest,” because only one person can be that, but we can ALL be Faster, Higher, and Stronger. 

The Worst of Sport: Character Ed and the PSU Scandal

This is an installment in the Best and Worst of Sports Scandal chronicling the Olympic Games and the Sandusky scandal at Penn State.

In the wake of the severe sanctions imposed on Penn State by NCAA President Mark Emmert, commentators have fiercely debated the justification for the NCAA’s intervention in the first place.  Given Sandusky’s conviction and the devastating findings of the Freeh report was the NCAA simply piling on? 

The NCAA typically functions to maintain fairness in college football and is best known for enforcing recruiting violations and academic standards.   In order to avoid NCAA penalties, most colleges now have a staff specifically devoted to compliance.  Yet conventional compliance offices with their focus on the adherence to specific NCAA rules are ill-equipped to address the cultural malaise that overtook Penn State.

The key to understanding why Emmert responded so decisively is in his November 17, 2011 letter of inquiry to Penn State following the allegations of Sandusky’s history of blatant abuse.  Emmert noted that Article 2.4 of the NCAA Constitution holds athletic departments responsible for the “character education” of their participants and that in order to carry out that responsibility, all those involved in athletics should adhere to moral principles in all aspects of their operations.  Emmert went on to point out that because coaches are “teachers of young people,” the NCAA Constitution holds them to a higher ethical standard than most citizens.

In spite of Emmert’s lofty moral vision, the NCAA has yet to require any formal preparation for or credentialing of college coaches.  Yet the rationale for the sanctions clearly broadens Athletic Departments’ responsibility for their coaches. Coaches have extraordinary power and influence over young people.  As such, they have a responsibility to not only protect athletes from exploitation and abuse but to nurture their development. 

In punishing Penn State, Emmert raised the bar for all colleges and sports organizations throughout the country.  Sports organizations from college athletics to knee-high leagues must replace a culture of compliance with a culture of compassion.  Building a culture that protects and nurtures children requires they provide coaches and administrators with the best possible education for their role as moral teachers. 

The Best of Sports: Women on the US Team

It always baffles me how the Olympic Games seem to be the venue for all things “new.” Despite its history and tradition, the Games always seem to be the place for new superstars to emerge, new technology to be unveiled, and new records to be made. Even when the feats of humanity seem like they cannot be surpassed, the Olympics always brings out what was once thought impossible.

This year is no different.

Old records have fallen, the swimsuits are in a new fashion, and there are new athletes stealing our hearts. But something perhaps more subtle, but certainly no less significant has happened this year: the US, for the first time, has more females than males representing our country (269 women, 261 men). To a young audience, this news might seem of little significance, but consider that the last time London held the Olympics in 1948, women made up 9% of all participants, and as recent as 1996, 26 countries were not sending women to the Games.

Just like breaking a record on the track or in the pool, there is no better stage to break this record than on the grandest of them all: the Olympics. Sending a balanced contingent of men and women to the premiere sporting event in the world says that as a country, we have committed ourselves over decades to the advancement of gender equality in sports, and we are proud to show the world of that achievement. Although it might seem as simple as just picking a fair number, it is a reflection of a commitment to a core value that our country is built on: equal opportunity. It’s a value that we have long stood for, but not always exemplified. This year we celebrate 40 years of the Title IX, and we have taken to heart the many heroes and accomplishments that have emerge in these decades, all while recognizing that there is still ground to be covered in our quest for equal opportunity. And this achievement is yet another important milestone on that journey.

As gradual as the change that Title IX has inspired has been, we can lose sight of the magnitude of this year’s gender balance. Especially in recent Olympics, female athletes have always been on the eyes and in the hearts of Americans, whether they are on the balance beam or flying down the ski slopes (in fact it seems the only time of year that female athletes do get equal attention!).  But it is truly amazing to think that young girls around the country and around the globe watching the parade of Americans during the opening ceremony could see something that their mothers and grandmothers would not have been able to see when they were young: themselves.

The Worst of Sport: Punishment, Responsibility, and Penn State

What moral sense can we make of the sanctions that the NCAA levied against Penn State? Some argue that the sanctions are unfair because those directly responsible for failing to protect Sandusky’s victims are no longer at Penn State.  Others counter that the NCAA should have imposed the death penalty for Penn State’s egregious lack of institutional control.  Whatever your view, the sanctions clearly have a symbolic function; they express our shared moral outrage.  NCAA President Mark Emmert noted that the goal of the sanctions was not merely punitive but “to make sure that the University will establish an athletic culture and a daily mindset in which football will never again be placed ahead of educating, nurturing and protecting young people.” 

More than sanctions levied at a single university are needed for the kind of transformation that Emmert envisions.   Recall that up until last November, many regarded Joe Paterno as an icon of integrity in college football, who exemplified the virtues most revered in sports, such as hard-work, excellence, and above all, loyalty.  Senior officials at Penn State from the President to the Athletic Director also embodied those same virtues.  How then could men, recognized for their character, show what Judge Louis Freeh called in his scathing investigation of the Penn State scandal a “total disregard for the safety and welfare of Sandusky’s child victims?”

The Freeh report, while unsparing in its criticism of the individuals involved, revealed the true source of the problem -- a culture focused on winning and maintaining the appearance of institutional virtue but blind to those without power or influence, especially the most vulnerable among us—our children.  Although Emmert called the Penn State situation “anomalous in many respects,” the culture that led to and sustained the cover up is not unique to Penn State or to college athletics.   We have seen this culture thrive in the most revered of our social institutions throughout our country. 

Rather than simply focus on one institution that failed, we need to address a national culture that absolves us of responsibility for other people’s children.  We might start by making sure that all colleges that run sports camps and all youth sport organizations implement the Freeh report’s recommendations for mandatory abuse awareness and reporting programs.  However, we should not stop with policies and procedures that are designed simply to protect children from predator coaches. Creating a culture that nurtures and educates as well as protects demands a comprehensive child-centered approach to athletic programs for children at all ages.   The tragedy that has befallen Penn State is tragedy for all of us and a tragedy we must all address. 

Dr. Clark Power is a developmental psychologist and a professor at the University of Notre Dame. Power's expertise is in moral development of children, and has devoted much of his career to the service of children through the PLACT program, which he founded. Dr. Power will be commenting in a series of Blogs on the effects of the Jerry Sandusky scandal at Penn State University.

The Best of Sports: The Olympiad

Why are the Summer Olympic Games so special? Why is it that every 4 years we turn our eyes to a far off city to watch sometimes little known athletes participate in somewhat obscure sports? We wait with hopeful anticipation that our nation will win medals, and we watch in awe at the spectacle of flags that parade through the Olympic Stadium. We become experts on rhythmic gymnastics and our happiness suddenly depends on the performance of a young fencer.

I don’t think there is one answer to that question. Certainly the spectacle of the games has become quite fantastic. The display of raw athleticism is highlighted in sports that we might not otherwise ever see. We learn of tremendous stories of overcoming obstacles just to qualify for the games and of athletes who are on a quest to shatter records.

But I think above all, what we celebrate at the Olympics, and why we are so drawn to them is that they call us to recognize our own humanity in different ways.  Not only are we drawn by the highs and lows we see in the athletes’ struggles, but we see ourselves as a part of a larger world. When Adnan Ta’yes of Iraq steps to the line in the 800m run, he will stand alongside Nick Symmonds, of Boise, ID running of the US. And for two minutes, it won’t matter that Ta’yes’s youth was probably marked with scars of war and occupation, or that Symmonds grew up with the privileges and safeties of being an American citizen. The track will provide a (literal) level playing field for the competitors, and will be equally as gratifying or unforgiving to all who choose to run upon it.

We will be intrigued by the wonder of all the stories that have brought the thousands of athletes of extremely different backgrounds together to compete in the same gym, field, or pool. We will be inspired by their accomplishments and we will take pride in how our support can inspire countrymen. We will desperately support our own nation, but inevitably be swept away by the prowess of another.  We will be forget our judgments and opinions for two weeks and let sport be the ultimate arbiter.  We will see how sport, something that competition has more to do with bringing us together than separating us. We will watch, and we will be amazed.


This is the first installment in a series of blog posts chronicling the Best in sports, exemplified in the Olympics, complemented by the Worst in sports, displayed in the Jerry Sandusky scandal.

Happy 25th Muffet!

For our fifth segment in our Title IX series, we pause to celebrate a titan in the world of women's sports.

In 1987, the world was a different place. A wall ran through the city of Berlin, Aretha Franklin was a chart-topper, disposable cameras were a new sensation, and Mark McGwire of the Oakland A’s was a rookie sensation.

So the hair might be shorter, the technology more advanced, and the politics different, but a few things are still the same. U2 is still rocking out, Magic Johnson is still making sports headlines, and Notre Dame Women’s Basketball is still in the same good hands.

Muffet McGraw was hired as Notre Dame’s Coach at a time when it was VERY good to be an Irish fan. Tim Brown ran away with the Heisman trophy, Lou Holtz was proving his mastery of coaching, and Notre Dame won its first national championship in a women’s sport (fencing).

No pressure.

To be Irish was to win. And win big. Luckily for Muffet, any fears of failure may have been assuaged by the fact that women’s college sports lied very much at the periphery of the American consciousness when she first took the job. A study in the late 1980s found that only 3% of media coverage of sports followed women. But she didn’t let obscurity get in the way of doing things the Irish way. In twenty five years, Coach McGraw’s teams have assembled a .733 winning percentage, seven conference championships, 10 sweet-16 appearances, and three trips to the National Championship game, including a National Title in 2001. Her foresight, skill, and leadership not only shot her to the top of A-list basketball coaches, but also sent Women’s Basketball rocketing into the hearts, minds, and living rooms of people everywhere.  A sport that was seldom covered in the 80s now has multi-year contracts with media outlets and regularly hosts games in front of sell-out crowds. A debt of gratitude is owed to Coach McGraw for the stewardship of both the sport she loves and the school for which she has worked for the past quarter century.

As we commemorate the 40th anniversary of the passage of Title IX later this week, let us celebrate a woman who has not only witnessed, but influenced dramatic change of the sport for so many people!