While having lunch last week with our school’s Academic Director, John Schafer, he related an endearing and telling story from his childhood. It involved what he recalls as his first discussion with his father about ethics. As they sat together on the couch watching a baseball game, the outfielder appeared to have caught a fly ball, though the umpires were unsure as to whether he had instead trapped it, and the not-so-high-def replay was unclear. After much discussion amongst the umpires and TV commentators, this five year old asked a question which, once you hear it, will seem the most obvious of rhetorical questions to pose at such a moment: “Why don’t they just ask the guy if he caught it?”
John’s sharing of this story was inspired by his visit to my philosophy class that morning where we discussed various sports ethics issues ranging from the concept of basketball’s “good foul,” to criminal punishment of violent actions in sport, to the issue we spent the most time on that day, Diego Maradona’s famous—or, depending on how you view it, infamous—“Hand of God” goal.
Likely informed by his philosophical musings on sport as a child, John voiced to the group of students as to whether part of any game really does involve the deception of the referee. That is, by adding a referee to the situation, athletes tacitly shift the responsibility of deciphering the truth away from the athletes and onto the referee. Needless to say, this comment incited many raised hands and ensuing conversation.
In a letter I wrote to this particular class of students, seeing as how our class has now culminated, I referenced this very conversation. I reflected to them the language and concepts they used in class that day as I’d taken screen shots of the classroom whiteboard: empathy, consent, purpose, honor, intent, harm, what it means to deserve something and to owe someone something. The list goes on.
Fast-forward three days to a panel I was honored to be on as a part of our school’s centennial celebration. It included Hall of Fame quarterback Steve Young and Stanford’s renowned basketball coach Tara VanDerveer and was moderated by acclaimed sportscaster Ted Robinson in a packed gymnasium. At one point, Robinson asked the panel to evaluate the oft-made connection drawn between sports and other major issues, often political. Steve Young had just finished reflecting on the importance of accountability as an athlete and VanDerveer affirmed the need for resilience—“grit,” she called it—in the face of challenge and failure. The question, in part, had already answered itself.
Though this gave me the opportunity to share what had recently transpired in our classroom. I reflected on the fact that sport provides a platform upon which everyone can really get at life’s most profound riches, from 5-year olds to students in my class who may not even be athletically-inclined1. Likewise, it provides a platform for athletes embroiled in a team and pursuing a common goal with great passion to confront and truly live out concepts such as duty, trust, and myriad others we’ve all come to celebrate in sport.
To tie this all together in my weekend whirlwind of a celebration of sport, on Saturday night I attended the Positive Coaching Alliance’s 14th Annual National Youth Sports Awards gala. Part of this event served to honor four of the national award winners and to hear from them on a panel moderated by soccer great Julie Foudy. Each coach, in one way or another, touched on the common theme of using sport to allow athletes to become more cognizant of being a part of something bigger than oneself. One coach used the metaphor of holding a rope for teammates with each teammate responsible for keeping the others safe, while another reflected on wishing he’d known earlier in his career that relationships—not X’s and O’s—were the key to a successful team, commenting, “I didn’t realize that love could be such a motivating force [with our team].”
To culminate the event, baseball legend Dusty Baker came on stage to receive PCA’s Lifetime Achievement Award and share in conversation with Foudy. He can best be described as convivial: he repeatedly shared moments from his career with great laughter and sincerity, reflecting on lessons he learned and lessons he tried to teach. We all walked away with one concept that seemed to permeate his entire being as an All-Star athlete and then respected manager for his 39 years in Major League Baseball: Love—love of teammates, love of sport, all serving as a foundation for excellence.
And so it should be no surprise that the movement toward a more enriching youth sporting environment is upon us.2 The potential for profound experience is accessible for all people, of all walks of life. It’s not just accessible, it’s forced on us. Back in the 70’s, you’d need to stay up until 11:00 at night to watch the airing of the NBA Finals, and now hundreds of channels broadcast sport 24/7, primetime, on major networks.
If there is virtue to be had in sport, my weekend highlighted it more than ever: from a sincere and thoughtful discussion with teenage students, to reflections of a 5-year old, to panels of world-renown experts. And in the final question Robinson asked of our panel, he asked us to share our most rewarding sporting experience. After two of us—Kris Weems and myself—briefly reflected on national championships we’d played key roles in, major highlights of our respective coaching careers, etc., it was time for the third panelist’s response.
Frank Quirarte is a big-wave surfer—and by big, I mean upwards of 100 feet—and, as a member of a top surf team then became a member of a Rescue Team working in the wake of Hurricane Katrina as well as serving on a team in Operation Desert Storm. He prefaced his answer referencing how he felt like he shouldn’t even be a part of such an esteemed panel, given the vast accomplishments that had just been rattled off. He then shared his answer to the “most rewarding team/sporting experience.” For the sake of brevity, I won’t recount it in the poetic way he did; in short, his team rescued a man drowning in “a whirling, chaotic whirlpool,” brought him to safety, and resuscitated him. In describing this, he repeatedly referenced concepts common on that day’s panel such as teamwork, accountability, and grit. And as his preface to his story reminds us, being a member of a team—a well-orchestrated, successful team—requires a sense of humility. And, of course, love.
1I must insert a footnote both to clear the record and to further elaborate. At the time, I actually said sport-related discussions allow for students in my class who are not academically-inclined to explore big-picture concepts. It wasn’t what I’d intended—this entire class of mine is academically inclined—but it’s certainly true. Very often, I do reference sport as an ideal catalyst for getting those not interested in discussing philosophically abstract concepts to do so.
2PCA founder Jim Thompson commented in his opening remarks, “Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a movement to change a culture.”
