98

Jason Collins admitted that he struggled for years for self acceptance.   When he joined the Celtics this year, he began wearing “98” as a “small gesture of solidarity” with the gay community.  Collins noted that the year 1998 has a double significance. It marks not only the year of Matthew Shepherd’s cruel death but also the founding of the Trevor Project, the leading national organization providing crisis intervention to LGBTQ youth, who account for 30% of adolescent suicides.  To understand the significance of Jason Collins’s revelation, we must walk in the shoes of those countless children who have experienced humiliation, ostracization, bullying, and torture for their perceived sexuality.  Sports have bred homophobia for generations. We all know the demeaning jeers and slurs that are embedded in the culture of youth as well as professional sports.   Defensive lineman, Esera Tusalo, explained after he came out, “It [sport] is a place for gladiators and gladiators aren’t supposed to be gay.” He lived in terror and nearly committed suicide for fear that his sexual identity would be revealed.   Jason Collins suffered in lonely silence long enough. 

By coming out he claimed his full personhood and as his aspirations to love faithfully and to start a family.  He also invited those of us who coach young people to embrace the full significance of “98” and to build a sports culture that goes beyond tolerance to acceptance and compassion.  

Tragedy in Boston, Triumph in Sport

6 down, 20 to go!

The bombings at the Boston Marathon on Monday tragically killed 3 people and injured hundreds. Play Like a Champion Today Associate Director, Damian Kearney ran the race. He offers his insight on the day's events.

I ran the Boston Marathon on Monday. I ran through some of the most beautiful towns in America, I reunited with old friends I haven’t seen in years, and I got to participate in the premiere event for the sport that I love. It was one of the best experiences of my life. I emerged from the finishers areas half an hour later to meet my family, and went to the Prudential Center for some much deserved pizza.

After enjoying some slices, we heard a big boom. A few people went outside. Then another boom, this time about 200 yards from where I was eating. Then panic. People in the food court were turning over tables, screaming, running outside. It was the first “mob scene” I had ever witnessed first-hand.

Then confusion. A quarter million people having no idea what to do, where to go, or what to expect, wandering around in search of answers. What happened? Where do I go? Where’s my stuff? Are we safe?

Trained staff and onlookers chipped in to help victims injured in the now infamous explosions. Completed marathoners gave blood to assist the traumatized (because they’re the last people that need fresh oxygen flowing, right?!). People opened their doors to strangers in need of a warm building. Concerned citizens gave unfinished runners food, phones, and blankets as they tried to piece together the events that had just transpired (take it from me that the last quarter mile of a marathon is already pretty hazy).

Amidst an act of terror, thousands of acts of kindness emerged.

These acts of kindness will not bring back any of the lives that were taken, or replace any of the limbs that were lost, but they are an example of sport at its best. Sport at its best, is unitive, heroic, and uplifting. A team getting pulling together in a comeback; a bench-player defying the scouting report; “winning one for the Gipper.” On Monday, I saw best of sport. For 4 hours and 50 minutes, millions of people had fun, supported each other, and strode to fundraise for noble causes. For the rest of the day, the best of sport continued in the streets of Boston, Massachusetts.

People could have taken advantage of others’ weakness on Monday, but people chose to do good rather than ill. I do not believe that it was just sport that brought people together on Monday. I think we are all naturally empathetic and come together in times of trouble. But I do believe that sport is ultimately a reflection of the society we live in.

People, just like sports, have the potential to do great things, or do terrible things. We saw both on Monday. Thirteen seconds of violence were surrounded by minutes, hours, even months of passion and compassion. This is at the core of why sport is noble. In sport, just like life, we are provided with a forum to do good or evil. What I saw on Monday was that our natural inclination is to do good, despite one person’s choice to do the opposite.

As we coach, play, and watch sports, let’s remember what we saw on Monday. In the face of darkness, we chose light.

Integrity and Honesty In Sport

In most sports, athletes let the officials take responsibility for upholding the rules. In fact in most sports, athletes and coaches “play the refs” and try to get away with as much as they can. Not so in golf. Golf is one of the few sports to have developed a culture that demands that athletes take responsibility for upholding the rules and for reporting even their inadvertent violations of the letter of the law. Golf demonstrates that the honor code really works, even when the stakes are high and no one is looking. In the playoff for the Horizon Heritage Tournament title with over $400,000 on the line, Brian Davis of England called a two-stroke penalty on himself for accidentally nicking a reed on the backswing of his recovery shot from a hazard to the left of the 18th green. Only Davis was aware that he had barely touched the overhang, yet he did not hesitate to make his infraction known to an official. The reaction of the golf community was not surprise but affirmation. “What Davis did was what probably 90 percent of the players on the tour would have done” wrote Larry Dorman (2010). Dorman went on to recount golf’s proud history of self-reporting going back to the legendary Bobby Jones, who in 1925 after calling the same penalty on himself said, “You may as well praise a man for not robbing a bank.” Few would fault Tiger Woods for doing what athletes in all other sports do – let the rules committee take responsibility for deciding whether to give him a two stroke penalty or disqualify him. But this is not all other sports; this is golf. Tiger missed an opportunity to do something far more significant and memorable than winning another major.