in American Life: A VIEW FROM THE CHEAP SEATS By Michael J. McGovern, VP for Academic Affairs
qwrttxvyukjgdsaxbnm A few years ago, I was playing golf behind a foursome that was on the next tee as we were finishing up on the green. While someone in our group putted, shouts of exhilaration and other assorted whoops erupted on the next tee. They could and did mean only one thing — one of the four had made a hole in one. The foursome exchanged high fives all around, and we joined in the congratulations for this rare and defining moment in the game of golf. The hole in one will remain among the lucky player’s most cherished memories of his life. The story of his ace will probably get better and more mythic with each retelling. That single event captured for me what sport is all about. Stripped of instant replays and slow-motion cameras and crowd noise, sport is about participation in something entirely physical and intuitive. At its best, it measures one’s athletic and physical skills against either an opponent or a standard of perfection. Its virtues include preparation, hustle, making a play, respect for the opponent, and working hard. When two athletes or teams compete, each knowing that they have done their best to prepare and then play at the highest level of their skill, the outcome, while satisfying to one and disappointing to the other, is anticlimactic. There is great (though increasingly quaint) satisfaction in the knowledge that one has done one’s best, win or lose. A curious aspect of sport is that it resists explanation. It doesn’t lend itself easily or accurately to analysis and interpretation (this despite a legion of analysts and interpreters who clog the airwaves every weekend). The truth is that Peyton Manning throwing a touchdown pass or Serena Williams breaking a serve are far more exciting to watch than listening to those athletes explain how they did what they did. The activity is so reactive and instinctive that most athletes cannot explain their own performances well. They simply perform. That being said, sport is always played in a social context, either in the company of teammates or opponents and sometimes in front of spectators who often pay huge sums of money just to watch. It has its own section in the daily newspapers and its own television networks. Schools at all levels support and sponsor teams and athletic contests. The most skillful practitioners at the elite professional level constitute a new American aristocracy, earning millions of dollars. Before long, Tiger Woods will become the first athlete to earn a billion dollars in prize money and endorsements. To be sure, sport is a visible and celebrated aspect of American life. As one wag put it, among the unimportant things in life, sport is the most important. The question has always been what it is about sport that makes LEFT CENTER-PHOTO BY PHILIP STEIN/ALL OTHERS-BY RANDY MONCEAUX it seem so important. The classical response is that sport builds character. The source of this perspective may be the statement mistakenly attributed to the Duke of Wellington that “The Battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton,” suggesting that defeating Napoleon was largely the result of playing soccer at an upper crust English boarding school. Irony aside, Wellington may have been on to something (for 19th and 20th century boys at least) in that the teamwork, cooperation, importance of practice and striving for excellence learned in play all work well in professional and corporate life. Participation in sport during school years was a valuable addition to a resume and job application, underscoring one’s ability to work well with others and focus on achieving an important goal. This ideal was well reflected in Byron White, an All America running back at the University of Colorado, who later graduated with honors from Yale Law School and served on the U.S. Supreme Court for over 20 years. Unfortunately, the lesson of sport-building character was a moot one for girls of that time, and also resulted in the clubbiness, insularity and exclusivity that one associates with the down side of the American ladder to success. Only “team players” needed apply in Wellington’s model. For many years, that frequently meant white, male and financially comfortable. It would take another <strong>SPRING</strong> <strong>2008</strong> ● NCC 19