A few other cents on sports & sportsmanship

By now, most of you have probably read the recent news story of the Dallas, Texas high school (Covenant) which beat another crosstown rival (Dallas Academy) 100-0 in a horribly mismatched basketball game. The game was 59-0 at the end of the first half and the girls on the Covenant side seemed particularly eager to reach the 100-point mark by the end of the game. Since the story broke, Covenant apologized for their team's conduct and sought to forfeit the game, calling the win "shameful." Now, the coach of the Covenant girls' basketball team has been fired after disagreeing with the administration's statement.

There may be no right answer to the moral puzzle presented here. In a fairer world, Dallas Academy (which has not won a game in the past four years) would not have played a state-championship contender like Covenant. In fairer world, the Dallas coach would have forfeit the game at halftime and praised his girls for their tenacity. Finally, in a fairer world the Covenant squad would have scored a handful of points and, subsequently, no one would have talked about this game after it ended.

But none of these things happened. One team won and one team lost. Badly. As such, it's raised a multitude of ethical questions (most of which can be applied to any sport, regardless of the school or league): Should a winning team stop their scoring attempts once they've built an insurmountable lead? In such a situation, should one of the coaches make an attempt to stop the game? Is it right to forfeit a contest with so lopsided a conclusion?

Personally, I think all these questions return to the problem of pity, which is why I would answer (respectively) no, not necessarily, and no to the questions posed above. As a person who has played on many a losing team, I would argue that the last thing a failing team wants is pity. It's demeaning and it shouldn't be mistaken for mercy (which is an act of love). And for those Covenant girls to practice passing drills for forty-eight minutes or to dribble circles around the Dallas team without scoring, that's exactly what it would have been - demeaning. Additionally, the Covenant administration's move to forfeit the game is demeaning. I will be the first to praise the Dallas team for their fortitude in the face of such adversity - consider how few of us would willingly have played the entire game - but it insults the players to say they "won" in any conventional sense. It's unrealistic and it attempts to refute the valuable lesson learned here. Dallas Academy lost but they lost after playing with incredible vigor and tenacity. Very few competitors could say they would have done the same.

Playoff season and the fear of being a traitor

I realized today that I have yet to write anything about sports, which is odd as many of my weekends during football season are devoted to the watching of at least one or two good games. And it's not as if I'm a neutral viewer who has no opinions on the game(s). (For instance, I disagree with the way overtime is played in the NFL and I find it laughable that Division I-A college ball has no playoff system (particularly when a perfectly workable playoff system exists in Division I-AA)). In particular, I've been most concerned with college football rivalries and the fans that perpetuate them. Bill Simmons, ESPN's "Page 2" correspondent, has a good list of general sports rules for fans, but here are my few college-football-centric additions (some of which run contrary to his):

1. It is okay* to root for another team that is in your school's conference.

*Recently, I've had run-ins with "loyal" college football fans who feel utter disdain for the other teams in their conference. While I think this is normally acceptable during the regular season, the playoffs - or bowl seasons - are a different story. For example, if my UM Grizzlies are out of the hunt for a national title and our rival (the Montana State Bobcats) are still in the picture, I will gladly root for them. This is not only because they are in the same conference but because they have yet to win a national title. In addition, if your team is from a conference that doesn't get much respect (e.g. Mountain West, WAC, etc.) then it is almost obligatory to cheer for the team that is generating said respect (provided your own team is done for the season). The good buzz that appears around a winning team is only good for the conference as a whole.

2. An understanding* of the game must precede any rivalry.

*I can't tell you how many times I've had conversations where I present my side of the rivalry debate (see Rule #1) only to discover that the other person doesn't know how many downs there are in a series. Now, I never played football and I personally know it takes some time and energy to understand it - and some misconceptions about overtime rules, names and positions are forgivable - but it is totally asinine for a "fan" to froth at the mouth about their loyalty to team when they don't know how the game is played.

3. Keep your rivalries in perspective*.

*Plain and simple, we are fans of the schools we attended due to the happenstance, fate, or God that put us there. As such, it's good to remember that most of us were a scholarship or acceptance letter away from being fans of a different school. So remember that rivalries are a means for enjoying the game more and not a foundation on which to build your ego.

Once a runner...

There's an article in Slate today about John L. Parker's previously out-of-print book on long distance running, Once A Runner. (After reading it, I am tempted to hunt for the novel - which is apparently a task in itself). Anyway, as a sometimes-long-distance-runner, I think the description of the book's eponymous subject is spot on ---

"Like many cults, distance running has its mysteries, and The Secret — how you become a real runner — is Once a Runner's chief concern...But it turns out that The Secret is that there is no secret. The runner must pound the mileage, as we say. It's a grueling, tedious, insane lifestyle. So why do we keep doing it? To understand the answer, you have to understand a bit about distance running. For one thing, it helps to know that only non-runners talk about a "runner's high." It's not that it doesn't exist, that weird feeling of euphoria you sometimes get briefly after a tough day at the track or a superlong run. But no one could possibly be a runner just for the highs, whether brought on by natural chemicals or by winning a race. The running life is mostly just lots and lots and lots of miles. Only a few competitions punctuate the grind of thankless workouts on anonymous tracks, and you literally need a very loud gun to snap you out of the training existence and tell you it's time to save nothing for later. There simply isn't enough in the way of traditional rewards as compared with hard labor to make it worthwhile—that is, if you're only after the traditional rewards."