Youth sports

It is with profound sorrow that I learned of the tragic incident involving Kasandra M. Perkins and Jovan Belcher this weekend. Despite their promising futures, with him earning a substantial income from his sport and them raising a three-month-old child, the circumstances leading to his actions remain shrouded in mystery. While the exact cause may never be fully understood, it is worth considering whether his involvement in youth sports could have played a role in shaping his behavior.

Recently, I have read several articles on bounties in Pop Warner Football. You can find more articles at the following links: Link 1, Link 2, Link 3, and many more. (Link 3 is particularly disheartening.)

I also recently read “Play Their Hearts Out: A Coach, His Star Recruit, and the Youth Basketball Machine” by George Dohrmann. I read this book after reading the Minnesota Amateur Sports Commission survey results, which stated:

• 45.3% of youth leaguers said that adults had called them names, yelled at them, or insulted them while playing a game.
• 21% said that they had been pressured to play with an injury.
• 17.5% said that an adult had hit, kicked, or slapped them during a game
• 8.2% said that they had been pressured to harm others intentionally. 

A USA survey poll in Indianapolis, Indiana, found:

• 55% of parents said that they had seen other parents engaging in verbal abuse at youth sporting events.
• 21% said that they had seen a physical altercation between other parents.

A survey conducted by Sports Illustrated for Kids magazine found:

• 74% of youth athletes reported that they had watched out-of-control adults at their games
• 37% of the athletes had watched their parents yelling at children
• 27% had watched parents yelling at coaches or officials
• 25% had watched coaches yelling at officials or children
• 4% had watched violence by adults

In a survey conducted by SportingKid magazine, over 84% of respondents, including adults and youth sports players, reported witnessing parents exhibiting violent behavior (such as shouting, scolding, or employing abusive language) towards children, coaches, or officials during youth sporting events.

Furthermore, it is concerning to note that even in the most severe cases, approximately 50% of youth sports players have experienced verbal abuse. Regrettably, a significant number of these abuse episodes remain unreported. I acknowledge my own responsibility in failing to report such incidents in the past.

On February 21, 2002, a day that will forever be etched in my memory, I found myself at a tennis tournament on a Friday afternoon. As I was searching for a lost ball in a secluded hallway, away from the main crowd, I noticed a young boy, approximately 14 years old, emerging from the court. He had achieved a remarkable victory, securing a straight-set win with scores of 6-0 and 6-1.

Nearby, another individual was also exiting the court, standing beside the victorious boy. In a moment that would forever haunt me, I witnessed the boy’s father, the man beside him, seize the boy’s shirt and forcefully push him against the wall with his forearm across his throat. The father’s words were chilling and filled with anger, as he declared, “You little Sh#@, I do not spend over $20,000 a year for you to come out here and lose a game to a no-name F&@k. Get your head out, you’re a$^, or you’re through! You got it!”  

He released the boy from his grasp against the wall, and they proceeded past me. The boy was visibly distressed. Years later, I witnessed the same parent utter the words, “Your day is coming,” to an official following their son’s defeat in an officiated match.

This incident stands as one of numerous regrets in life. I should have reported the matter to the authorities, but I failed to do so.

In the realm of sports, whether it be ultra-running, golf, tennis, baseball, football, soccer, or croquet, the primary motivator for participants is often the competition itself—whether it be against others, oneself, or even oneself. Frequently, the intensity of the competition extends beyond the individual participant, encompassing coaches, peers, and parents.

Over the past three decades, I have had the privilege of assuming various roles, including those of coach, player, and parent. While I have had opportunities to excel in each of these areas, I could have achieved greater success in some instances. While my experiences have been both positive and negative, they have provided valuable insights into the nature of children.

I do not attribute my shortcomings to any single factor but instead to the inherent human behaviors that often accompany success. Whether it is participating in youth sports in small rural towns or competing in professional sports in the bustling metropolis of New York City, there are inherent advantages to being the champion and the best of the best. Personal pride in accomplishment and the admiration of peers are the first undeniable benefits of achieving success. Championship youth sports teams or athletes frequently find themselves inundated with sponsors offering to purchase uniforms and equipment, some of whom outright refuse to consider financial assistance when approached at the outset of the season.

I have heard of ultra-runners who receive shoes, clothing, supplies, and other items after achieving an impressive time or victory. Before their victories, they had limited opportunities to receive anything for free, except for items they might find at the expo. This concept is ingrained from a young age: winning results in receiving something, while losing results in receiving nothing. I support the notion that there should be no trophies awarded in youth sports to players under the age of twelve.

Society has become one where everything is perceived as a game. A game of “who accumulates the most possessions or wins” has permeated our society, akin to a cancerous growth that shows no signs of abating. It has devastated financial empires and governments, leaving us devoid of a moral compass.

Is this delving into too much complexity for the realm of sports? What could sports possibly accomplish in a world that has deviated from ethical principles? Possibly everything.

The issue can be traced back to the youth. Our youth are exposed to the seriousness of sports before they are introduced to the academic world. Consider this: children engage in activities such as baseball, football, soccer, marbles, and kickball long before they take their education seriously. They emulate the players they observe on television, not their teachers, and this is not to diminish the significance of a teacher’s role; it is merely a factual observation.

Fortunately, children are too young to comprehend the unethical practices that occur on Wall Street, such as Ponzi schemes, foreclosures, corrupt politicians, performance-enhancing drugs, or spying on a team’s practice. Nevertheless, they are mature enough and intelligent enough to learn how to play the game “fairly.” They require the support of appropriate coaches, parents, and community members to enjoy the game, rather than adopting a “win or you’re a loser” mentality. 

As previously mentioned, I recently read “Play Their Hearts Out: A Coach, His Star Recruit, and the Youth Basketball Machine” by George Dohrmann. In the book, I learned about the Pop Warner Youth Football bounties and the Jevons Belcher murder-suicide. This made me question how many societal issues are attributed to youth sports. While schools are often blamed, it is concerning that nearly five out of ten youth sports participants experience verbal abuse, which can negatively impact self-esteem.

Youth sports require rigorous monitoring, similar to the scrutiny given to our classrooms. However, society tends to prioritize winning, and youth sports and the military are not subject to the same level of micromanagement. This needs to change. I believe a coach can have a profound and potentially detrimental impact on a young person’s life in a single season. Therefore, stricter penalties should be implemented. However, it appears increasingly unlikely that such measures will be enacted.

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

Holy CRAP!

I absolutely adore Frank Barone in the classic show, Everybody Loves Raymond. However, I must confess that I’ve been captivated by the absolute classic, Dragnet. I’m not sure why I mentioned Dragnet in the title, as it’s not the reason behind my exclamation of “Holy Crap.”

The reason for my exclamation was simply that it had been almost three months since my last post. Wow, I’ve been incredibly busy with a job promotion and trying to accomplish more than I ever thought possible. Additionally, I’ve been expanding my photography skills. Here are a few examples of my recent work:

I plan to write something good this weekend. I miss blog posts because Facebook offers instant gratification, but I’m not thrilled with it. It might be like Myspace or other trends. I’ve never tweeted and don’t want to. The blog is like pen and paper to me. I need to get back to it; it was enjoyable.

When things seem drab, I think of how I have it great compared to others. Like the poor dog in this cartoon:

Thanks for reading!

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

SteveQ

I never noticed before how much the stone arch bridge pillars look like stiletto heels.  Friday, November 30, 2012 at 12:53:45 PM CST

Beth

Beautiful pictures! Glad you are doing well.  Friday, November 30, 2012 at 9:43:25 PM CST

Making incomplete judgements

I’ve been irritated by people criticizing the police lately, especially after the St. Paul YouTube video. I’m concerned about both the police and those involved in the incident.

First, consider the life of a police officer. Having a policeman around is awkward when friends visit. The room feels colder, and people perceive the badge as an obstacle. Suddenly, everyone becomes a comedian, joking about the police. They lose their first names and are called derogatory terms like copper, pig, dick, flatfoot, bull, john law, lousy news, trouble, fuzz, or the heat. They’re called everything but a policeman.

In many instances, the profession of law enforcement may not offer a fulfilling life unless one is willing to forgo significant family gatherings due to the occurrence of homicides or to endure working Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays at reduced compensation levels. While their salaries are sufficient to enable them to save and support their children’s college education, they are often limited to acquiring knowledge about Europe through television programs.

They spend years arresting a drunken prostitute, who destroys their uniform. Years ago, the office had to pay for a new one. They get a front-row seat to the world’s diverse and elite, including pimps, addicts, thieves, bums, drunks, girls who can’t keep an address, men who care, tyrants, liars, cheats, con men, and many in Skid Row. They witness heartbreaks like beaten wives or girlfriends, and firsthand, beaten, neglected, underfed, and molested kids with broken arms or legs. They see dead, lost, homeless, hit-and-run, sick, and dying kids. They also see the old and homeless, often ignored, pensioners, and people who walk the streets cold, hungry, and homeless.

Police officers work tirelessly, attempting to mend the lives of many while maintaining their sanity. They often embark on calls without knowing who they will encounter. They could face a child wielding a knife, a deranged individual armed with a gun, ex-convicts with nothing to lose, or an angry mob that despises authority.

Lawyers and the courts impose an overwhelming amount of paperwork on police officers. They meticulously fill out reports, both when they are accurate and when they contain errors. In some cases, they even create reports within reports to prevent twisted legal representation from manipulating the facts and allowing the perpetrator to escape justice. Police officers are required to write a substantial amount of documentation throughout their careers.

They must contend with constant doubt, anxiety, and frustration, as well as the ever-changing expectations and requirements set by court decisions. If the challenges posed by the criminal element are not enough, police officers often find themselves defending themselves against lies, deceit, or misrepresented videos on platforms like YouTube. They must also protect themselves from judges, juries, and, frequently, the public, who are often unaware of the daily realities of police work. Consequently, most people are dissatisfied with the outcomes of police actions.

Consider this when we believe what we see. The St. Paul Police were out of line in their treatment of the person, but I heard an angry crowd yelling and commenting in the background. They were antagonizing the police for arresting a felon with a warrant who threatened to harm his girlfriend. Someone yelled about “getting it all on tape.” I imagined the officer, with his back to the crowd, fearing for his family’s safety if someone pulled a gun. I would be terrified if I were near that area.

I’ve been watching Dragnet recently, and in Joe Friday’s words, “Being a Policeman is a thankless, endless, and glamour-less job that has to be done, and I am incredibly glad to be one of them.” Personally, I am very glad to see a police officer, even if I am speeding!

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

1,831

Following Grandma’s Marathon, I anticipated recurring knee pain and other challenges associated with completing another 26.2 miles. It was the first time in a considerable amount of time that I missed running—not the roads, but the trials. Nevertheless, I resolved to continue cycling. However, the knee pain never manifested, and other body parts indicated that I should take a break.

My objective for this year is to accumulate 3,000 commute miles, which translates to 84 days of commuting to work. After his week, I have achieved half of my goal for work commutes, totaling 42 miles. However, I have logged 1,831 miles thus far this year. While I initially considered this satisfactory, I realized that I have averaged 8.2 miles daily this year. This revelation provided me with a sense of accomplishment. Subsequently, I discovered that several of my running friends average more than that for daily miles on foot. It is essential to recognize that these achievements are relative.

I recently improved my average speed to work by doing a time trial on my road bike. After watching the Olympics, I decided to give it a try. The previous time was over 56 minutes with wind assistance. However, on August 2, there was no wind, making it ideal for a time trial. I set a new personal best of 54:23 for 17.81 miles, according to my Garmin 405. I only had one red light! My average speed is 19.6 mph, and my average heart rate was 152 beats per minute. I was thrilled to achieve this on my new Fuji Roubaix 2.0, which glides beautifully.

I have been taking more pictures and learning new techniques.  Select the photos below for a larger image.

The summer has been decent, but the infection has returned. I was glad I rejected prednisone last time. I’ll have another exam in a few weeks, but I fear I’ll be given Levaquin again. I can’t afford another 10 pounds I gain on prednisone.

I’ll be 50 next month. Time flies. I’m unsure where it all went, and I see that I haven’t accomplished as much as I had hoped. Some call it a bucket list, others regret. I call it an opportunity. Many friends didn’t have the chance I have, passing young. I’ll cherish the time and believe the trials are ahead.

All you quiet dreamers, Carry on!

Grandma's 2012 - number 28!

When I started this post, I wondered where blogs were 28 years ago. I compared my experience at the 36th Annual Grandma’s Marathon (my 28th consecutive) with past ones, but I didn’t have a blog then, and I didn’t journal. After 28 finishes, they all run together. I had blog entries for 2009 and 2010, but last year was tough; I only had five entries (two in January and three in December).

My Friday could’ve been worse. Work was a mess, and I struggled to leave. When I did, I went to my girlfriend’s house and drove up in her car, as sleeping in a Nissan Altima is more manageable than my Smart ForTwo. I went to fill up with gas, but about five blocks from the station, it ran out! I had to push it to the station, but I didn’t get any help. Fortunately, the route was flat, but the entrance was the only issue. I picked up speed and made it.

After the fiasco, I left Minneapolis at 3:30 PM on Friday. I was concerned about my lack of preparation. Having not run any miles since the 2011 Grandma Marathon, I needed more preparation. I logged over 1,500 miles on my bike in the two months leading up to this attempt, but biking differs from running. Traffic made the trip 45 minutes longer, but I arrived at the DECC just in time for the 5K to finish and the parking lot to be clear. I picked up my packet and walked around Canal Park before heading to sleep. I set my alarm for 4:45 AM, expecting rain and a bus/train departure between 5:20 and 6:30 AM. Despite my recent sleep troubles, I had a great night’s sleep. When I woke, I was surprised to see a mostly clear sky, despite the weatherman's prediction of thunderstorms.

The train ride to the start was uneventful. I went to the Biffs' and completed the final race preparations, believing this would be my best attempt. I’ve been down, thinking this would end my consecutive Grandma’s Marathon attempts. One side hoped injury would take me out, while the other was a fighter. I hate to quit or fail more than anyone I’ve ever met.

Concerns arose due to the intense heat of the sun. The weather forecast predicted a high of 65°F with scattered thunderstorms. At 7:00 a.m., the temperature was already 65 degrees, and the sun was scorching. Standing at the starting line, numerous runners had already begun to sweat from the heat. Due to the forecast, this year’s race commenced 15 minutes early at 7:45 AM, deviating from the customary 8:00 a.m. start time. I recognized the importance of employing strategic running techniques to increase my chances of completing the race.

The race start unfolded without significant complications. It took approximately seven minutes to cross the starting line. I was maintaining a steady pace of 12 minutes per mile without any concerns. My heart rate was approximately 130 beats per minute, which was within a normal range. As is customary for endurance activities, I utilized the heart rate monitor as my pace guide, keeping my heart rate within the 130-140 range.

Everything was fine until I had a loud, painful clicking in my right knee at six miles. It was like a ratchet. Step by step, I clicked, clicked, clicked. I changed my gait and rotation, hoping to ease the issue. I walked to minimize pain and odd feelings, then ran in various ways to ease the pain. I found a short, pain-free shuffle. After the half-marathon mark, I realized my brisk walk was about a minute slower than the shuffle run, and walking didn’t hurt. I began to think, can I finish? I have to finish! So, I briskly walked, clicking off (pun intended) the miles at a comfortable pace of 15 to 16 minutes per mile. It was easy, and I had built up a cushion. I knew I only needed an average of 19 minutes per mile for the rest of the race to make the cut-off. I decided that the focus should be on the finish rather than the time.

Everything was going well until mile 22, when I began to feel tightness in my calves, right thigh, and lower back. I concentrated all my mental energy on each step, consciously changing my stride to prevent cramps from stopping me. I had been taking S-Caps and had followed a solid hydration regimen, so I remained focused. I’ve always believed that the brain can overcome many challenges if you know how to use it effectively!

Shelley met me at mile 24.5 and walked the rest of the way to the finish. It was a slow finish, but I wasn’t disappointed or happy. It felt like I had finished a day at work and was ready to go home. I wasn’t satisfied with my job, but didn’t plan to quit.

I look forward to returning to biking, though my knee hurts less than it did the week before the race. Last year, it felt better after 26.2 miles than with zero miles. I enjoyed the bike rides this past year and look forward to running and finishing Grandma’s Marathon again. When that day comes, I’ll make it my last, as I don’t want to quit without having enjoyed a race, so that positive memory will stay with me.

Currently, my focus is on combating this infection again. Despite taking Amox-Clav for six days, I haven’t noticed significant improvement. It appears that a more potent antibiotic is necessary, which will undoubtedly restrict my activities. However, I must take immediate action because I wake up unable to see clearly for the first ten minutes each morning. Within minutes, when I lie down to watch TV or read, everything becomes blurry. As I mentioned earlier, this is my ninth antibiotic rotation in the past 26 months. I am determined to fight this battle and emerge victorious, so I can overcome other challenges.

Thank you for taking the time to read my message. May you all lead happy and fulfilling lives and enjoy every moment of your existence. It’s easy for humans to take this blessing for granted, including me. I am grateful for the health, perseverance, and success I have experienced for over half of my life, including completing Grandma’s marathon. It still amazes me how quickly 28 years have passed. Wow!

Carry on, my friends.

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

wildknits

Congrats on your finish!! Good to hear your story. Amazing perseverance.  Hopefully, this will be the last round of antibiotics and the cure!  Monday, June 18, 2012 at 10:48:28 PM CDT

Wayne

28 years is incredible, Londell - Congratulations!!!  Wednesday, June 20, 2012 at 9:37:48 AM CDT

Anonymous

Hey, that's me in the picture with the yellow hat and camo sweatshirt. Funny stuff. Anyway, nice job on yet another finish.  Marcus. Thursday, June 21, 2012 at 6:20:56 PM CDT