With the publicity about Lance Armstrong and the denial of Hall of Fame membership to Sosa, Bonds and Mcguire, perhaps it is time to dig in on the substance issue…1. Armstrong stated he would not have been selected if he refused to dope.  One potential pro baseball player told me the reason he was not moved up (management told him) was because he refused the “pack”, or steroid enhancement.  If this is the only was to advance then advancing may not be worth it.  It is certainly dangerous, and taking unfair advantage. “Cheaters never win” a passe axiom? 2 . In the “power sports” isn’t there an added danger in giving some parties strength, size, speed, injury recovery, frenzied mentality advantages etc?  E=1/2 m x v squared.  Or “energy equals one half mass times velocity squared” as proposed by O. Charles Olsen in “The Prevention of Football Injuries” in the 1970′  One football coach said the mothers were leading the charge against their kids playing some sports now. If these sports are worthwhile, and I believe strongly they are, shouldn’t they be played on ” a level (drug free) field”? 3. Who protects the 14year old (about age some are making the steroid decision) when parents either aren’t there, are ignorant of the issues, or sadly complicit in encouraging usage?  Is the “paste out of the tube”. Or is this a watershed moment requiring the parties that are in control to “step up”, to use a sports cliche?

In 1976 James Michener wrote SPORTS IN AMERICA. He made the statement then “…I might allow my child to play football, but I wouldn’t encourage him to play.” I asked this fall on this blog, won’t this be a critical year in football history? (FOOTBALL AT THE CROSSROADS). Seems like the year proved the point…Continued head injuries, lawsuits, dementia, suicides, pretty brutal stuff.. The game is brutal. Still many love the “lions vs the christians”. Many think the rules are unclear or limiting. My guess is another influence is on the forefront, similar to Michener’s. “Mommas don’t your boys grow up to be football players.” This is not new, yet making more sense. It bothers me however that the great life lessons of football may be lost to many. If the savage control the game, to hell with it. If there is a “…turning loose of the steering wheel” then wrecks will occur. And , as good people abandon the game a lot will be lost. Every time an Incorrigible is recruited, selected, hired, etc., a good kid will be eliminated, or cut, or not given a chance. same for coaches, administrators, owners, all the way up and down…Face it–there are people that aren’t capable of benefitting from the great life lessons of football, and all sports. They use the game only for self gain. Many become millionaires only to squander the money. Bankrupt in short order, having gained no worthwhile skills, and having done only damage to society…Once again, who plays is important. People must be screened on a person by person level. Race should play no part in who plays. It does seem true that the more white kids drop out, the more black kids will fill the slots. It seems logical that if we fill the slots with incorrigibles, albeit good players, we will eliminate a lot of great black kids, whose only chance may be sports. Save the game for kids who, having learned important life lessons through their only available avenue,i.e. sports, go on to worthwhile citizenry. And make rules that protect them.  Begin with perfomance enhancing drugs control.   Lance Armstrong said he would not have been accepted if  he had decline to use drugs.   If the top (pro sports) demands usuage,  the news will flow to the bottom (even children’s sports).   Hopefully parents will guard their kids,  but some have turned the blind eye or even encouraged the madness.   Sanity is the only hope…

One of the great coaches I ran into along the way was a competitor. Redlands University (California) was coached by Jim Verdieck. Jim was the best at winning I ran into, in any sport. And he was already a legend when my team made its 1970 trek to Rockhill Tennis Club in Kansas City, home of the NAIA Championships.

Verdieck was a strong willed football – tennis coach. His teams won 12 of 13 NAIA titles, starting about the mid-sixties. There was a “one-foreigner” rule in the NAIA early on, so battles pitting Texans against Floridians versus Californians were heated. The coaches were tough. Clarence Dyer of South Eastern Oklahoma coached in twenty-two straight tournaments, finishing 2nd to 4th of fifty teams or so, every year. He never won. Why? Verdieck and Redlands. Unlike the NCAA team format, the NAIA featured a single elimination, 256 draw men’s (and later women’s) tournament. The draw separated team members from early on meetings, but a #1 player could play a #4 guy on your team at any time. It was vicious, the draw could kill you. Pressure caused many seeded players to wilt. Endurance was the biggest factor. To win singles and doubles both, a player had to win 8 singles matches and 7 doubles. Fifteen matches in five days. And match #1 began at 7:30 AM. Early on, you played three singles matches the first day if you won. Tired puppies, and sore bones the next day.

The number one tough coaching trick was to get college kids to go to bed at 9 o’clock for a week. “Morning acclimatization” was crucial. You were up at 5:00 am, hitting to shake the cobwebs loose. My sidekick, Russell Rawlings and I would pound on the local McDonalds’ door, begging for egg McMuffins and juice for the players. They’d play at six different sites early on, so to get them up, fed, crapped, and distributed was hair-raising for a Robbins redneck. Russell helped immeasurably.

It was magic; 7-6 in the third set everywhere, hamburgers and ice cream from the Rockhill Grill, throngs of business men on their lunch hour-watching youngsters from all over. Mostly, they wanted to see Verdieck and his Redlands team. Doubles was great, particularly the Texans and Okies teams. They seemed a lot like us, but could play better. I began to pick up what Verdieck was doing, and watching various great players from all over. It was like popcorn going off. Later, as an old coach having moved up to Division I NCAA, I’d tried to tell the new ones how much fun the NAIA was. And how good.

It’s true, there were very weak players and teams there. I took some of them. A draw that pitted you against Donne, Nebraska or Cedaville, Ohio meant you at least had a chance. And every kid got to play, often 3 or 4 or 5 days. If you won you got to play again. Each match won counted a point for your team and the team with the most points won. One point could make the difference in your team finishing tied for 3rd in the nation, or being 6th. Kids played hard. They got to fly on a plane. There was a great banquet with good support from the NAIA staff, college volunteers, and the people of Kansas City. Our kids were taken in by our “honorary coaches,” a program that used volunteer townspeople to help out. Joanie and Bob Mullet drew our team, lucky for us.

Once you had hosted a team you could be reunited by choice at the next year’s tournament and my sidekick Russell had made note of a big hill near their house. Russell had been born with a hip problem, he couldn’t run on it and it limited his ability to exercise. This was one of life’s cruelties, as Russell really loved sports. His limitation caused him a weight problem and he was a big boy. Later, he did go from 320 pounds to 160 pounds, or “two good-sized Orientals,” he contended. One of my true joys was watching him conquer obesity. He did love to eat. As we exited one all-you-can-eat buffet, the Kansas City proprietor whispered to Russell, “Sir, it’s okay if you don’t come back.”

I was puzzled one year at the pre-tournament picnic the Mullets hosted at their home. After the meal, Russell asked Mr. Mullett if he could borrow his bicycle.

“Sure”, Bob said.
“And your station wagon?” asked Russell.
Puzzled, but courteous, Bob agreed again, “Sure.”
“Come on coach,” Russell enthused.

The hill was a constant decline for about three miles and Russell sent me and the station wagon down to the bottom. He then glided all the way down the winding road to me and the wagon. We put the bike in the back and drove back uphill to the Mulletts. It was his first long bike ride.

Soon after, sans about 150 pounds, he rode his bike from Wilson to Morehead City, one hundred plus miles.