Mike McMurran
Sports Editor
Once again I find myself in the “doghouse.” No surprise, the address which appears on my driver’s license should read: 2804 Kennel Avenue. It seems I have this uncanny ability to open my mouth and insert my foot – at least that is the way it appears to the uninformed.
Some weeks ago there were a couple of organizational meetings at The Academy of the Sacred Heart dealing with the athletic program. There are few things in life I know much about, but athletics seem to be one of them; my passion for the Academy is, well, just that, a passion. My being on the committee seemed a natural fit. How could I get in trouble? The answer is: we do what we do best.
Let’s discuss my passion for athletics, and in particular football. Regular readers of this column know I am a veteran of the U.S. Navy; serving two and a half years of active duty with a unit know as the “Fighting Seabees.” In the early 70’s the Marines and Navy would form football teams to compete with local teams; some being small colleges and such. If my memory serves me correctly, and times were very, very different in the early 70’s, we were stationed at Roosevelt Roads in Puerto Rico. Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 133 fielded a football team, a team made up of both officers and enlisted.
Those unfamiliar with Navy rules and regulations pay close attention here: Officers and enlisted were forbidden to socialize in any way, shape or form. Should an officer and enlisted become involved romantically, both could, and usually would be discharged from the military. It had something to do with their ability to lead in times of war. We were, however, allowed to compete on the same football team.
It seems after a practice, an officer and I were changing clothes next to each other. I asked permission to speak to him (yes, I had to “request permission to speak”). Permission was granted.
The conversation went something like this: “Sir, you know I am bigger, faster and stronger than you.” He nodded. “When we line up on the field I kick your butt all over the field.” He looked at me quizzically. “When we leave here, I go sleep in a barracks with 9 other guys, and you live in an apartment all by yourself.” He still remained silent. “When it is time to eat I must stand in line at the chow hall, while the Phillipinos serve you your meals.” The silence from him made me nervous. “I will spend an hour on my uniform this evening making sure it is up to par for tomorrow’s inspection, while the Phillipinos will prepare your uniform.” Finally he spoke. “Have you a point to this story,” he asked. Yeah, I had a point. “What makes you better than me?” He thought for only a second and responded, “I graduated from college.”
I had no idea in the world what it took to graduate from college. Heck, I was lucky to get out of high school (0.834 g.p.a.), but I knew if it made such a difference in life style, I too, would someday “graduate from college.” It took me 14 years to earn my undergraduate degree, but I earned it. Now, as I proudly like to say, “I am educated far beyond my level of intelligence.” I have not looked at it lately, but I think I am something like one or two classes from having two Master’s Degrees. In my strange application of logic, I owe it all to football.
There are others who feel they owe athletics for the quality of their life. I have a number of friends who played Division I, II and III sports in college. The main reason they attended college was to play sports; somewhere along the line they managed to earn their degree. That degree does things.
Now, back to paragraph one. I know not what percentage of graduates from ASH go on to earn their degrees; I suspect it is rather high. The academic expectations are the reason most send their children to school there. All I was trying to suggest is that maybe, just maybe we could hold the athletic program to the same high levels of expectations. That’s all. Boy did I fail. What I failed at was expressing myself clearly; at least I think that is what I failed at.
This too shall pass, and in some strange way I will probably learn from the experience. At the same time I know there are a handful of individuals who agree with me. The difference is they know how to present their case orally far better than I. Better yet, they know when NOT to present their case orally. There, that’s the lesson I was looking for.
