A Case for Showing Up: Congrats to Paul Toboni, President of Operations, Washington Nationals

I hear it from every panel of students. You won’t find an exit interview that doesn’t address its value and importance. At our in-service on Thursday, I expect to hear reminders from administrators and wise colleagues: faculty and staff can—and should—attend their students’ games, concerts, and performances. Showing up for kids makes a world of difference.

The truth is, it is increasingly challenging to get teachers and administrators to stay after school. American life is busy. Please don’t get me wrong—so many of my colleagues are incredibly generous with their time: preparing fantastic lessons, holding study sessions, and coming early or staying late for office hours. Teaching and counseling demand a lot from a person. The easy thing is to go home and stay there. And yet, the hiring of Paul Toboni as the President of Baseball Operations for the Washington Nationals affirmed for me why it is more than worth it to go.

On September 24, the assistant athletic director saw me in the hallway and couldn't wait to share some excited news with me. He handed me his phone and I read the following tweet from ESPN baseball writer, Jeff Passan.

BREAKING: The Washington Nationals are finalizing a deal to name Paul Toboni their new head of baseball operations, sources tell ESPN. Toboni, 35, rose rapidly to become assistant GM for the Boston Red Sox and is widely regarded as one of the best young executives in MLB.

I put it down; we both smiled and I said "WOW!!! That's incredible. Thanks so much for sharing that with me, Rob." He replied, "I knew you would appreciate it."

Paul Toboni graduated from St. Ignatius College Prep in 2008. The SI community is tireless in its efforts to share and celebrate the success of students and alumni—near or far, young or old. When the news is about a student you have taught or an athlete you have coached, it feels that much more special. You feel joy, pride, and a connection. Sometimes you tell anyone who will listen. And to be very clear, this is super special. We have 50 people in the US Senate. There are only 30 GMs, or as they are now called—presidents of operation. Paul and Buster Posey are peers! 

To my friends and family who love baseball or live in the DC Metroplex, I passed along the update about Paul. The irony, however, is that I never even taught him. Yet, the pride I felt was real, a reminder that the SI network and spirit extend far beyond the classroom.

Even though I taught a required Religious Studies course, Paul was not my student. His older sister, Gianna, was in my Foundations of Ethics: Morality and Justice her junior year. She was always an engaged and willing participant—greeting me as her teacher and thanking me at the conclusion of every class. In fact, I can recall that she was in my first-period class, and that means I got those students at 8:00 a.m. on a Monday morning. Even though that could be rough, Gianna consistently set a positive tone with her presence, her smile, and her thoughtful questions.

During his introductory presser in DC, Paul said "I would like to thank my family who is here today. My folks and my siblings. I like to say that I hit the lottery at birth, I had no control over the circumstance that I was born into but they all struck a great balance of loving me but challenging me and I'm forever indebted to all of you." I loved his remarks and I wasn't surprised to hear him say what he said. To teach Gianna was to know about her two older brothers, her young sister Jacqueline and her younger brother, Paul, too.

I also taught Paul's wife, Danielle. I think back to Danielle's contributions and participation in Sports and Spirituality with a smile that rivals hers (which is epic). Danielle missed class early in the semester because she was traveling for the US Women's (under 17/18) national soccer team. This meant that we collaborated before or after class to make it all work. She was nothing but responsible, diligent and a bright light. She laughs easily and memories of her in that class still make me smile. Paul added "to my wife Danielle and our four boys—all of you make life so fun. It can be crazy at times but I'm lucky to have all of you." I can only imagine.

So why celebrate? Why write about a student you never taught? Consider this.

Although I did not teach Paul, I did know him—because that’s what happens when you watch a student-athlete over the course of three years. Paul made the varsity squad as a sophomore, and I had the opportunity to watch him develop, improve, and lead with each passing season. I attended so many SI varsity basketball games that I gained a strong sense of who he was as an athlete, a teammate, and a person. I wasn’t alone—sitting alongside me were a sizable number of other teachers, faculty, staff, and the families of the players, all behind the SI bench. I’ve always loved that perch in the bleachers above, where you can watch athletes sit, get called in to play, take a time out, and gather in the huddle. 

Truth be told, I was a fan of many of those kids—I can still name at least two starting lineups. But Paul stood out. For one, he wore 22—my lucky number, my favorite number in honor of Will Clark. Hard not to cheer for that! His fundamentals were rock-solid. Any basketball purist would take pride in his hustle, mechanics, and grit. In fact I can still recall talking to Leo LaRocca, the former AD and an iconic SI leader about Paul.

I was sitting one row behind him for a varsity boys' basketball game and we were both watching Paul warm up. A great shooter, I said to Leo, "as they say, practice makes perfect." He remained quiet. He nodded and said "no, perfect practice makes perfect." I took note.

In light of his basketball IQ, work ethic and temperament I figured Paul must have made him a joy to coach. I decided to reach out to his coach, Tim Reardon for an answer. Truth be told, I expected a four sentence response. Instead, I got four paragraphs. I savored each story, recalling those memories. He wrote,

Paul was a two-time first team all-league basketball player, and it wasn't even his best sport. He was also an all-league baseball player. and before his senior year, the football team was trying to get him to come out for the team and play quarterback! It's true. He actually played some spring ball. I watched him throwing dimes out there on JB Murphy field and assumed we would get him a month late for basketball, but he changed his mind. I think football wanted him not only because he had a great arm but also, and more importantly, because he's a winner and a fantastic teammate.

In 2007, we lost the NorCal semi-final game by one point to a really good O'Dowd team. When we got in the locker room, Paul said to the team, "That one's on me, fellas." He'd had a mediocre shooting night and didn't want any of the seniors to take the blame. But Alex Brown immediately replied, "We never would have gotten here if you didn't win the CCS championship game for us." And, of course, Alex was right. We'd gotten down in that 16-4 in the first quarter, and Paul had a crazy game to bring us back for the win.

My dad was a big Paul Toboni fan, and my dad's favorite PT moment occurred in a CCS semi-final game in 2008. The game had been settled. There were 5 seconds left, and we were down by seven. We were resigned to the fact that the game was over. Our guys were already shaking hands with the SHC players as the clock ticked down. But then SHC's star player started to dribble hard toward the basket. He was going to dunk on us to end our season. Paul was at half court and saw what was happening. He took off like he'd been shot out of a cannon, and just as the SHC player was about to begin his jump, Paul caught him and laid him out. It wasn't a cheap shot. But it was an extremely hard foul. The SHC guy would have to settle for free throws instead of getting to humiliate our team at the end of a pretty good year. My dad walked over to Paul after the game and thanked him for that.

Paul and I keep in touch. He's a great family man. He's smart as hell and quietly competitive. During our last home game against a highly ranked Mitty team, their coach came up to me and said Paul should get player of the year. "I have a couple of players who are probably better than Paul," he said. "But I'd take him over any of them. He's good for the league. He plays the right way."

I'm really proud of him. Glad you're writing about him!

Thank you, Tim for taking the time to respond and put in writing what so many of us saw and want to remember. And as standard protocol—if there's a Notre Dame connection, it needs to be made. Tim added that when Paul was enrolled in the Mendoza College of Business at ND, he competed in Bengal Bouts—a program meant to "develop men who are rooted in charity to become the best boxers they can be, and raise money for the Holy Cross Missions in Bangladesh." I bet he was an excellent boxer.

I start every class with prayer and a Sports Thought of the Day. It was fun to begin class with this update about an SI alum—a man who once sat in the very same rooms as them and where life has taken him. It was especially joyful to note that he married a woman from SI who is every bit as bright (smart) and bright (glowing) as he is. They both remind me that our students are worth showing up for—in the classroom and far beyond. 

Photo Credits
Dugout
Quote

I Blame Me: Reflections on My Sports Ethic

I’m disappointed in myself. The only person I can blame is me. That sports ethic I’ve always held as a point of pride, the one I’ve written about and shared with my students as my way of proceeding, I compromised. I told myself I’d make an exception, that this time I’d go with what seemed like the better bet. I was wrong. I did not survive. I will not advance. I have been ousted from the Winner's Pool that I joined in August because I bet against my own team: the San Francisco 49ers. Here are a few lessons I learned.

Why?
The local sports talk radio spewed vitriol against our own team as they had their first loss to the Jacksonville Jaguars 26-21. If the SF Giants hadn't fired Bob Melvin—the team manager, unpacking the loss and menacing plight of this team would have had more air time. 

Yes, the Niners have the weakest schedule in the league but the "faith" in Forty-Niner Faithful was A.W.O.L. In thinking about this game, one friend asked me if Shanahan should bench Christian McCaffrey—the Niners' star running back. Like so many others, he came to a foregone conclusion that the Rams would prevail. he said "why put C-Mac's health at risk?" While I understood the sentiment. we agreed that it was too early in the season to take such rash gestures.

C-Mac had one things to say after last night's win: "Gritty."

When it came time to make my pick, I chose the Rams without delay. In short, I listened to the haters. Were they the wrong voices? Yes and no.

No—because a "smart bet" looks at the money line and determines how one team matches up against another. The Niners continue to be plagued by injury. One has to wonder if they should put who remains active in bubble wrap. I could go on and on and on about why this was the "smart bet" and the easy one. I won't. 

Yes—because negativity speaks loud and clear. I heard those voices and added to the conversation. That's really not my style. In sports, it's not hard to see what goes wrong, when and where. Furthermore, it can be a real challenge to be objective about your own team. You know them the best and yes, your vision is clouded. This is just one reason why my ethic forbids me for betting for or against my own team. But, this is also the entire point of having an ethic in the first place.

Didn't know this existed...

Is a Win a Loss? Is a Loss a Win?
IF the Rams had won, would I reflect on my sports ethic? Would I write about it?  This question reminds me of a comment from WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert. 

Napheesa Collier, a star player for the Minnesota Lynx, said "At Unrivaled this past February, I sat across from Cathy and asked how she planned to address the officiating issues in our league. Her response was, 'Well, only the losers complain about the refs' (CBS Sports)."

I have read enough to know that Engelbert's comment was not taken out of context. I find it dismissive and an unfair. I also find some truth in it. When a person or a team loses, it's only natural to closely examine what went wrong. Many times, the officials are an easy target; fact is referees have an do impact the outcome of games. 

Failure invites us to determine What we could have done differently? and How can we get better? This is one of the spiritual gifts of failure. Losing a game invites us to ask what might have been done better. In this way, failure carries with it a kind of spiritual gift. Of course, athletes and teams also reflect on what went right in order to succeed. Still, the old saying, “hindsight is 20/20,” rings true for a reason.

Had the Rams won and my survivor status remained in tact, I think I would revisit and reflect upon my ethic. How? Why? I live with myself. I know how I felt DURING the game hoping that the Rams might pull ahead. I didn't pray, but I felt like praying for a tie when both teams reached overtime.

So What? 
This experience only reminded me of why we have an ethic in the first place. A personal ethic offers a person a place to stand and a way to proceed. It is formed over time and from lived experiences. It reflects values and can help a person live a good life. To follow one's ethic is to live with purpose and principle.

In this instance, I am reminded that a personal ethic isn't always easy to follow. We make decisions that we think are right. We aim to get an edge, an advantage or one up. This is natural, even understandable—especially for competitive people!

A personal ethic and abiding by it suggest that regardless of the outcome, winning and victory is not always external—there is much to be said for what comes from within. And hey, as my friend Haley said, "Glad it was the Niners who knocked me out of Survivor's Pool." Great perspective.

FWIW: This what I have written and shared with my students in regard to my personal sports ethic.

1. I don’t wear shirts, gear or swag of other teams. From time to time I wish I could.
1. Love Josh Allen; would love a #17 Red and Blue Bills Tee.
2. I don’t bet FOR or AGAINST my team. 
1. Most people are willing to be FOR their team. Nope. The love is pure.
3. I will not bet on my team’s rival to WIN.
1. Bet on Dodgers to win the World Series in 2024. This meant I had to cheer for them. It felt dirty.

Photo Credits
Hates Guide
Pointing
Ethics

Stay Different Irish

In his new book, Shot Ready, Steph Curry opens up about an important self realization. "I'm different," he says. In fact, Curry sees his difference as a “superpower.” As he shares this understanding, it’s clear that being different is not pejorative. It it not something one ought to be ashamed of or seek to change. 

He said, "I was always different in the way I looked and played on the court and so embracing that differences as a superpower as opposed to a boundary or a speed bump I need to get over. That is really how I see the game—knowing that I have a flair and a creativity—embracing it, working on it."

Steph Curry IS different and fans love him for that. The game itself isn't the same because the ways he has exhibited and implemented that flair and creativity. The way he addresses, owns and celebrates his difference got me thinking about people and places who are different too. The University of Notre Dame came to mind. 

In many ways, Notre Dame has been slow to change. The University is ever mindful of its traditions and prides itself on keeping them and passing them on. Participation in game day rituals, dorm life activities, practices of the Catholic faith, and a strong ethos make it stand up and apart from the others. Among alumni and friends, change at Notre Dame isn't always a welcome thing, especially when it comes to football. For example, many fans hated the move to turf, the addition of the electronic scoreboard and even the addition to the stadium. Others are crying out for more change. But I have come to realize these traditions and customs are what make us different—and my time on campus for the Purdue game reminded me how important it is to be different and stay different. After all, we are ND.

The purpose of this post is to name those differences—both those that I appreciate and those I wish we would reconsider. For long time Irish football fans, our differences will ring familiar and true. I am hoping the others will get you thinking. I welcome your feedback. 

We're Different: Example 1—Sign Value
My dad and my uncle want names on the back of football player's jerseys. They understand the rationale for keeping them off: football is a team sport and the emphasis on the only name a player represents is that which they wear on the front of the jersey. I do like following players and while I know many names, the learning curve involves 100+ individuals. Therefore, I have my roster out for a good bit of the game. It's cumbersome, and yes over time I need it less and less. But, I recognize the sign value of not having names—I have written about this before. I am also sympathetic to their request. 

How's this for Sign Value?!

We're Different: Example 2—What you won't find inside ND Stadium
You won’t see any advertising inside Notre Dame Stadium. It’s striking to enter an athletic venue completely free of corporate logos, posters, or ribbon boards. Each end zone features just nine slash marks at a 42-degree angle—a nod to 1842, the year the University was founded. 

This is a striking contrast to Oracle Park in San Francisco, and many other sporting venues. Every year, the Giants' electronic scoreboard grows larger. It’s a shame that corporate logos stake a large amount of real estate on that screen, limiting views of the San Francisco Bay. In contrast, Notre Dame remains refreshingly simple and pure.

We're Different: Example 3—What you will find inside ND Stadium
The flag pole is in the south end zone of Notre Dame Stadium. I'm not sure I would have realized just how special and how different that is if my dear friend and former roommate Erin hadn't called it to my attention. 

Most flags fly at the main entrance or plaza of the stadium, above or near the press box or even in an end zone or above a screen board. But the placement of the flag pole at ND allows for a distinguished individual to present the flag and for fans to pause and take notice of this important ritual. As part of the celebration of 50 years of women's' athletics at Notre Dame, Ruth Riley Hunter presented the flag on behalf of every woman who’s worn the Irish jersey. Go Irish!

We're Different: Example 4—Victory Walk
Much to the delight of Irish fans, Coach Marcus Freeman reinstated the Notre Dame “Victory Walk” tradition: a pre-game procession from the Basilica of the Sacred Heart—where players attend Mass—into Notre Dame Stadium. The practice had been discontinued under Coach Kelly, who moved team Masses to Friday, rather than on the day of the game. 

This was one of the very first changes Coach Freeman brought to the program—and he was clear about why it mattered to him. I agree wholeheartedly. To me, this tradition speaks volumes: Notre Dame is a Catholic institution, and moving from spirituality to sport in this way underscores who we are and what we stand for.

And yet, we're no different....
Notre Dame has and DOES change. For each of the four differences I described, there are changes that make me think we are just like everyone else. Maybe you will find those changes to be a "force for good." I'm not against change, but I am pointing to the differences I question.

We're Not Different #1: Player Promotion
As mentioned, the only type of advertising on the scoreboard is for campus programs and university highlights. Fans can turn to the scoreboard for replays of the game and in review of calls from the ref. The only individuals featured on the screen by name are those receiving academic awards, other sports teams—men's track and field, women's soccer, etc. and special guests. 

For the first time however, I saw highlight reels showcasing individual athletes. After a touchdown by Jeremiyah Love, I saw what he just accomplished followed by past plays and his famous heart hand gesture from other games. As much as I love Love—and he wasn't the only athlete singled out— I was surprised by this change. I imagine the reality of N.I.L. sparked this shift but I am disappointed that an important way Notre Dame football communicates its team first mentality is a thing of the past.

We're Not Different #2: Turn Down for What
One of the greatest sounds associated with college football is the cadence, beat and rhythms of a marching band. I love hearing the Band of the Fighting Irish as they enter the stadium and take the field. Their music is far from limited to just pregame/postgame and halftime. The drums and songs that punctuate first downs, time outs, the end of the third quarter color my memories of my time as a student at ND.

Today the University allows for popular music in addition to the band. I arrived inside Notre Dame Stadium excited to teach my cousin's daughter Addison all of the moves and dance drills associated with the little ditties of the ND Band. Unfortunately, far too much of their music was drowned out by the likes of Ozzy Ozbourne's "Crazy Train" and a jock-rock favorite: "Turn Down for What." I'm not sure how many more times I can or should hear the "Price is Right" theme song.

Any school and any stadium can press play on hard rock or hip hop. Not every place offers melodies from the best band in college football. Fighting Irish Media, PLEASE reconsider.

We're Not Different #3: Speaking of music...
My friend Bill and I caught the procession of players and coaches close to the Hesburgh library. I loved seeing them in dress ware—a uniform navy blazer and dress shirt. A few wore ties; all carry their own backpacks.

I realize they are moving from a place of introspection and prayer to a public space that is loud and demands a lot from them. I get that they want to be "in the zone," but I wish they would remove their head phones/ take out their ear buds. To me, silencing the cheers and potential jeers creates a barrier. For example, when I saw Cooper Flanagan, I yelled out "Go Spartans!" I wanted to make a connection to his high school alma mater, De La Salle high school. Those AirPods prevent any sort of communique.

These athletes are modeling what we see every week in the NFL and among their peer group. Am I asking too much in requesting that they be open and stay open to family, friends and fans who call their name and cheer for Old Notre Dame?!

We're Not Different #4: Kegs in the Dorm is a No, Beer inside the Stadium is a Yes...
Maybe it's because we are Irish, but Notre Dame has always had a interesting, dynamic and complicated relationship with alcohol. We are anything but a dry campus. Kegs were forbidden but students still host parties in their dorm rooms—offering booze that has been "snuck in." The tailgating culture has certainly increased and many students at ND do what others do on Game Day: throw back a few, play drinking games, take Jell-o shots and more. others binge drink.

Critiquing culture around alcohol isn't a bad thing, and so it is with that spirit that I raise a question about the sale of it during games. Now, we match the practices of most other Power Five conference schools that have been selling alcohol for years. The powers that be made the change to  provide a more modern fan experience, generate revenue, and align with other major college and professional sports venues.

I asked students if they bought beer or wine during the game. About half said it was too pricey and others said "of course." I thought the editorial, Notre Dame’s approval rating skyrockets after allowing sale of alcohol in stadium from The Observer, the student run paper was hilarious. While ND's policy has changed, it's good to see that student responses have not. Witty. Snarky. Funny. No different.

No Family is the Same
Amidst our practices and pathways, I think it's always good to evaluate who we are and what we do. As I wrote this post, I was able to call attention to what makes Notre Dame distinct, unique and different. What is our flair? In what ways are the Irish creative? 

I think our greatest superpower can be found in the fact that we pride ourselves on being a Notre Dame Family—and no family is the same. Each one is different. We grow up. We grow old and pass our values and traditions from one generation to the next. Let's continue to do this, to add and subtract, review and respect our family name.

This was one of my favorite visits back to campus for a game because
I got to share the ND family with my own family and friends who are like family.

I carried these observations home with me—grateful, happy and with a full heart. My students asked if we stayed for the entire game. I said "how could we not? Making the pilgrimage to Notre Dame for a game runs on kairotic time. Time is not chronological." I was able to share the entire weekend with special family members—My Uncle Jay, Aunt Wendy, my cousin Jodi, her husband C.W. and their awesome four children: Regan, Harrison, Quinn and Addison. They visited me when I was a student and it was a treat to reconnect on campus once again and make new memories. I shared game day with friends who are like family—my former colleague Bill, the ACE IV cohort and the Shiogis. We celebrated 50 years of women's sports at Notre Dame. I sang the Alma Mater after a win and at the dedication of the Main Circle to the women of Notre Dame.

I'm different because of my time at Notre Dame and in the many years since I have graduated. That's a good thing.

Photo Credits
Player Walk
Ruth Riley Hunter
Jeremiyah Love

From Roy Hobbs to Rocky Balboa—We Remember Robert Redford

As my students walked into class this morning, I played the theme from The Natural. To hear Randy Newman's masterpiece, especially inside a baseball stadium is an ethereal experience—otherworldly, delicately beautiful, light, and spiritual. In class, I did not expect the prologue to bring us to another realm, but I did want to set the tone to honor the American actor, activist, director and producer: Robert Redford. He died in sleep; he was 89 years old.

I was too young to see Robert Redford’s most popular films in theaters—The Way We Were, The Sting, The Great Gatsby, as well as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid— among others. But in 1984, I saw The Natural at the Dome theater in Pleasant Hill. I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but I loved the era, the setting, the symbolism of Wonderboy and the character of Roy Hobbs. Redford was too old for the role (he was 47) but to me, he was a good fit. Why? He had a great voice. It is low, measured and quietly authoritative. Those qualities gave Roy Hobbs a sense of dignity, humility, and determination. He emerges as a man who lets his actions, not his words, speak loudest. 

I read Bernard Malamud's novel, "The Natural" in high school. I was shocked to discover the ending was far different than what I had seen on the silver screen. That dissonance confirmed, "The Natural is not just a baseball movie—it’s a mythic American parable dressed in the rhythms and imagery of the sport." (Rolling Stone). In this instance, the protagonist might have been Robert Redford—and not Roy Hobbs.

On KGO radio I learned that Robert Redford once admitted he felt discriminated against because of his good looks. Casting directors, he said, sometimes dismissed him for roles, believing his “All-American” image made him unfit for certain characters. It struck me as a curious plight—being too handsome for Hollywood—but in at least one case, I think he was right. The 1976 Academy Award winning film: Rocky. 

Can you imagine Robert Redford as Rocky Balboa? Could you cheer for Redford as the Italian Stallion? I couldn't. And yet, it could have happened—if not for the grit and resolve of Sylvester Stallone, who not only wrote the script but insisted on playing the role himself.

According to Screenrant, 

Producers and directors loved Stallone’s script but weren’t enamored with the idea of him playing the main character, which was a condition he insisted upon. Instead, they had much bigger names in mind, such as Peyton Place’s Ryan O’Neill, Burt Reynolds, Robert Redford, and James Caan. The latter three were all Hollywood A-listers and household names that audiences were accustomed to seeing on the big screen. To the producers, it just made sense for someone like one of them to star in a movie with Rocky’s potential.

I find this anecdote to be a fascinating one. Sometimes we make choices to be part of something or not. At other times, the decision is made for us. Had he earned the leading role, would Redford have accepted the part of Rocky? Do you think he too could yell "Yo Adrienne?"

Life takes funny turns—up and down, in and out. We are left with memories, stories, images, and song. Whether it’s Sir John Williams’ masterpiece, the theme from Out of Africa, or the mystical melody of The Natural, Robert Redford gave us a face, a voice, and a presence that captured our imagination and our hearts. Not in the boxing ring, but on the baseball field, while fly fishing, and in so many other moments. And perhaps, in the end, the words he spoke are the truest: “Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.”

Photo Credits
The Natural
Rocky

The Story of LSU's Tiger Tuba Kent and the Importance of Dreaming

I told a former student just the other night at dinner that I was in need of some inspiration. Part of me felt disappointed for even admitting that. After all, I work in a school and am surrounded by young people every day. Heck, I teach a class called Sports and Spirituality. There's no shortage of inspiration. Ever. But lighting that fire within just can't be forced. It isn't a given. 

So I did what the Gospel of Matthew calls us to do: seek, and you shall find. And I did find it—through the unlikely story of Kent Broussard—a 66-year-old freshman at Louisiana State University. After decades of working as an accountant, Broussard enrolled as a non-traditional student, carrying 12 credit hours. That full-time status made him eligible to try out for and earn a place in the LSU marching band.

Initially, I read his story with suspicion. I wondered if he was a donor who had taken loyalty to the next level. I needed to know, Was he a current parent who went further than decorating his child's dorm room with a designer on the payroll? Was this some prize pick for a "friend of the program?" Did he pay up for an auction item allowing him to wear purple and gold inside Death Valley? I read his story and caught the interview.

As I watched, I noticed familiar signs of a people and culture I got to know and appreciate during my two years living and teaching in Napoleonville, in South Louisiana. In the background was a framed Saints jersey and on the adjacent wall was what else? a deer head. This man with a fantastic Cajun surname is true South Louisiana. Of course he yells "Geaux Tigers."

With the support of his wife—God bless this woman—he undertook physical training to prepare for tryouts. He practiced and prepped. He earned his keep. 

Broussard believes, “People can use this as an example — your only failure is not trying. If you don’t try, you won’t get there."

He lives by the motto "people retire, dreams don't." Some of us dream of retiring. Others don't have that luxury. But for Broussard, this stage of life offered brought the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to march down Victory Hill, to carry and play that tuba in front thousands of adoring fans...and others who will be called "Tiger Bait" by that home crowd (I was in the Fall of 1997. ND 24, LSU 6. Go Irish). I would just like to thank him for the inspiration and the reminder to keep dreaming.

In his "Last Lecture" the late Randy Pausch addressed the importance of "Achieving Your Childhood Dreams." He said

And it was an easy time to dream. I was born in 1960. Right? When you're eight or nine years old and you look at the TV set and men are landing on the moon, anything is possible. And that's something we should not lose sight of. Is that the inspiration and the permission to dream is huge.

I worry that today is different. I wonder how easy it is for young people to dream. Whether we are seeking inspiration or an exemplar, I believe "Tiger Tuba Kent" has given us permission to keep dreaming. 

And in case you're wondering what Kent Broussard is studying when he's not at band practice—my guess is something he might have wanted study. Why stop at one dream, right?

Photo Credits
People retire
KB

From Mass to Monterey: Reflections on the 2025 Walker Cup

Friday began with Mass of the Holy Spirit and concluded with a flag raising for the 50th Walker Cup Golf championship. Needless to say, it was a very "thick" day. Fans of the writer and political/cultural commentator David Brooks might agree.

St. Ignatius College Prep is one of many Jesuit academic institutions and Catholic schools that begins the academic year with a traditional Catholic liturgy. This mass calls on the third person of the Trinity—the Holy Spirit—to lead and guide us in our studies and sports, creative endeavors and co-curriculars. With the priest dressed in a red vestment, songs like "Come Holy Spirit," and art work by students featuring a dove flying amidst tongues of fire—this faithful gathering marks the beginning of a new year. 

During his homily, Father John McGarry, SJ referred to one of my favorite Opinion pieces by Brooks, entitled "How to Leave a Mark on People." 

McGarry read from it. He said, "Some organizations are thick, and some are thin. Some leave a mark on you, and some you pass through with scarcely a memory." He added, "I haven't worked at SI for long, but it's obvious to me, this place is thick. You are wondering what that might mean." Brooks writes

A thick institution becomes part of a person's identity and engages the whole person: head, hands, heart and soul. 

Such institutions have a set of collective rituals.  They have shared tasks, which often involve members closely watching one another, the way hockey teammates have to observe everybody else on the ice. 

Such organizations often tell and retell a sacred origin story about themselves. Many experienced a moment when they nearly failed, and they celebrate the heroes who pulled them from the brink. They have a common ideal -- encapsulated, for example, in the Semper Fi motto for the Marines.

Father McGarry embellished on Brooks' works in adding, "It's also important to have an idiosyncratic local culture. Thick Institutions leave a mark on their students, and today you are being marked by the Holy Spirit."

What a powerful message, but what might that mean? Ignatius of Loyola said "go forth and set the world on fire." He believed that all we do should be done for the "greater glory of God," AMDG. His messaging resonates with all that the Mass of the Holy Spirit invokes. We are blessed to inherit such a legacy and command. It's worth passing down from one generation to the next. #SoThick.

After mass, I left San Francisco for the shores of Pebble Beach to get inside the gates of Cypress Point Golf Club. Friday consisted of a practice round and the official flag raising ceremony to commence the tourney. The guest of honor was none other than George W. Bush, the 43rd President of the United States. His great-grandfather Herbert (Bert) Walker founded the championship in 1922 as a way to foster international goodwill through golf. Yes, the W in George W. Bush stands for Walker.

The ceremony opened with a stirring U.S. military flyover, followed by a warm welcome from USGA President Mike Whan. Three national anthems were played as the Union Jack, the Irish tricolor, and the Stars and Stripes were raised.

I started to get choked upon hearing the Star Spangled Banner. I felt a wave of emotion as I watched President Bush, knowing he had devoted his life to serving the country for which both the song and the flag stand.

This moment hit me in as I was thinking ahead to this week, knowing we will watch "Nine Innings from Ground Zero."  It is an HBO documentary that explores how baseball became a unifying force for collective mourning and hope. George W. Bush makes an indelible mark in my Sports and Spirituality curriculum as he threw the first pitch inside Yankee Stadium in the 2001 World Series. The message he sent by showing up, standing tall and throwing a strike spoke volumes. It left a mark. And the beauty of that memory is that it still does today. 

At 79 years old, President Bush was attentive, personal and affable. The USGA did a great job of capturing his interaction with the players (see their social media postings!). I wanted to shake his hand and tell him about my class. I wish I could have told him how much my sister and I appreciate his art. He was swept away by friends and secret service. He is one of my heroes, and for reasons you might not expect. Please ask me about it.

His remarks were brief, but they captured what made the event so meaningful. He shared memories of his great-grandfather and reflected on the values of sport and the privilege of competition. He took time to recognize the men and women working behind the scenes—the people we might not think to thank—for making the weekend possible. Most impressively, he didn’t overemphasize his own role; he stepped aside graciously, making space for the current USGA president, Fred Prepall.

Prepall spoke of the many gifts golf offers—friendship, fitness, competition, and a love of nature. He invited the crowd to pause, saying, “Close your eyes. Take in this moment. The fact that you are standing here means you have lived a great life.” A hush fell over the audience; no one could disagree.

I stood on the fairway of one of golf’s greatest cathedrals, surrounded by beloved friends, framed by towering cypress trees. The sun was shining, and beyond us stretched the Pacific Ocean and Monterey Bay. It was a sacred moment—one that was made possible by what else? thick institutions.

Thick institutions demand something of us. I can't leave my time and experience from the Walker Cup and remain unaware or ungrateful. Though tired, I took a lot of time on Sunday preparing for school as it is an important week. 

My roommate recently asked why I work so often after school and on weekends. “What is it about teaching that asks so much of you?” she wondered. I shared a few thoughts about what the school year demands and why summer break feels so essential for renewal. Then she asked, “Well, it sounds like a lot. What’s the reward?”

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and showed her a photo from the weekend of a former student and his mom. “This,” I said. “It’s about the relationships.”

That relationship exists because of a “thick institution”—a community with shared history, rituals, and values that hold us together.

I told Neal I’d be showing Nine Innings from Ground Zero in class this week and asked if he remembered it. Without missing a beat, he replied, “Yes. It recalls how Bush threw the first pitch in the World Series.” Clearly, it left its mark. 

Come Holy Spirit.

Photo Credits
Thank you to my friend Malia, for always taking great photos.  #appreciated!
Cypress

From Redskins to Rushing Irish: What Do Our Mascots Say About Us?

Moving through the San Diego airport, I did a double take. I hadn’t seen that image in years — an illustration of a Native American chief, a composite that included Blackfeet chief Two Guns White Calf on a burgundy and gold jacket. The Washington NFL team retired both the logo and the “Redskins” name in 2020, replacing them with new branding. Today, they’re known as the Washington Commanders, though many—including the President—wish they weren’t. The jacket I saw looked like a relic from the ’80s: synthetic fiber, faded colors, worn seams. Still, it sparked a question I’m still turning over in my mind: Should someone still wear this logo?

Notre Dame opened the season against the Miami Hurricanes, rekindling one of college football’s great rivalries of the late ’80s and ’90s. These matchups loom large in memory, forever tied to the moniker “Catholics vs. Convicts.” First printed on a shirt sold on the ND campus, the phrase became iconic—so much so that ESPN devoted a 30 for 30 documentary to it. The Irish won that legendary game 31–30 at home, a regular-season victory that propelled them to their most recent national championship. Before this season’s game, I saw a resurgence of the green “Catholics” vs. orange “Convicts” shirts all over social media—and even on a few friends and classmates. Once again, the question surfaced: Should someone still wear it?

I decided to ask other sports fans and friends what they thought. Their answers varied widely. Loyalty runs deep, and most people don’t like being told what to do. Several expressed frustration—and fatigue—with what they called “wokeness.” More than once, I heard comments like, “We’ve taken things way too far,” and, “Let’s not get caught up in matters like this.” Others offered more nuance: “If I grew up in Cleveland and the Indians were my team, I might have a different relationship with the Chief Wahoo logo. Sports evoke memories, and that’s what I knew, what I cheered for.” A few even wrestled openly with the dilemma: “Just because I can wear it, should I?” That’s the question I keep coming back to. Because we can—does that mean we should?

My own authentic Catholics vs. Convicts t-shirt once hung in the back corner of my classroom, handsomely framed and often sparking enthusiastic remarks from students. One day, after class, a student asked me about it. I told him the story of the rivalry, my connection to the students who sold the shirt on campus, and how, against the odds, the Irish prevailed that season. He told me he had seen the 30 for 30 documentary and felt there were clear racist undertones in the slogan—which, in hindsight, there were. “I wonder how Miami fans feel about that moniker,” he said. “I’m sure some embrace it, but overall the optic isn’t good.”

I was defensive at first, rushing to defend my team and the ethos of Notre Dame athletics in my own mind. I even questioned his motive for asking about it. But later, I let his words settle. Eventually, I took the shirt down. In someone’s den or basement, with proper historical context, it might still have a place. But in my classroom, it felt different. I’ve come to believe the slogan carries racial undertones—though I know others don’t see it that way. I could wear the shirt or hang it, but I have decided not to do either. 

It’s worth noting that changing team names and logos isn’t a new or uniquely “woke” trend. Take Stanford, for example. I had always wondered how they ended up with “Cardinal”—just a color—as their name and a tree as their mascot. It turns out the student body pushed for change back in the 1970s, retiring the “Indians” name and imagery after Native American students spoke out about its harm. I find this to be a powerful testimony; history is a great teacher.

I'm going to let ChatGPT outline the movement (teachers, this is poignant example of when and how to allow students to use A.I.)

Early Mascot History: Stanford’s teams were originally known as the “Indians,” a nickname that dates back to around 1930. The name was meant to reference the school’s early use of Native American imagery, including a caricatured mascot and symbols.

Growing Awareness: By the late 1960s and early 1970s, the Civil Rights Movement and the growing voice of Native American students began to challenge stereotypical depictions and the use of Indigenous cultures as mascots.

Student Advocacy: In 1972, Stanford’s Native American students, supported by other student groups, formally petitioned the university to drop the “Indians” name and mascot. They argued that the imagery was offensive and perpetuated harmful stereotypes.

Decision to Change: In April 1972, Stanford President Richard Lyman announced that the university would retire the “Indians” name and associated imagery, citing the harm it caused to Native students and the broader Native community.

What Happened Next: After the change, Stanford’s teams were officially referred to simply as “Stanford” for several years. In 1981, they adopted the singular nickname “Cardinal” (referring to the color, not the bird). The Block “S” with a tree — a reference to El Palo Alto, the tree featured on Stanford’s seal — eventually became the primary logo.

So while Stanford’s athletic logo and mascot change happened in the 1970s (not the 1950s), it was one of the earlier examples of a major university dropping a Native American mascot out of respect for Indigenous people.

Sports team names, mascots, and logos are woven into our everyday lives; they’re deeply embedded in our culture. For many, they’re tied to identity and belonging. Raising questions about how we illustrate, name, and understand one another is not new.

These conversations often get pulled into politics, claimed by special interest groups, and can spark heated debate. Sometimes we get lost in the details—and sometimes that’s necessary. After all, how we relate to and treat each other can’t be separated from the names we use, the images we display, and the stories we tell.

The term "Redskin" is riddled with controversy. The studies around it conflicting reports and details. I appreciate what the ACLU has written. I think the Washington football team did the right thing. For those who think otherwise, let's continue the conversation.

Two minutes before the bell rang to conclude my Sports and Spirituality class, my student told me that Notre Dame changed their logo. I immediately thought "Oh wow. Did I miss the issue in question? I have read the history and origin of the Fighting Irish time and again. Is there a problem with the leprechaun?"

Turns out it's a marketing ploy. As written on the Notre Dame Athletics website, "the athletic department has released the Football Leprechaun mark that will be followed by more sport-specific marks representing each unique sport in which the Fighting Irish compete at the varsity level."

They added, "The Notre Dame Leprechaun is a secondary spirit mark of Notre Dame athletics. Its long-standing history represents the tenacious spirit of the Fighting Irish and their determination. The Leprechaun is recognized around the world today as the mascot of Notre Dame athletics dating back to its design in the early 1960s."

 Though the change did not prompt an ethical questions, it certainly got people talking. To me, it makes no sense. We are the FIGHTING Irish and I love that our moniker prompts the question "What would you fight for?" Now, all I see is the rushing Irish (Is he a running back?!). I look forward to seeing the leprechaun rowing soon.

During the Miami game, every time I saw head coach Marcus Freeman, my eyes were drawn to that new logo. Emblazoned on his shirt, it was impossible to miss. That insight reinforced my belief: logos and names send messages—whether we intend them to or not. They can invite curiosity, spark questions, and open conversations. And maybe that’s the name of the game, set, match. 

Photo Credits
Rushing Leprechaun
HCMF
Stanford Indian
Catholics vs. Convicts

Serena in the Spotlight—Wave after Wave

Some people are always making waves. It's easy to ask "What's new?" because there is always an answer. The old water cooler may be a thing of the past, but these are the people who, whether they intend to or not, end up in the spotlight—or at least in the lunchroom conversation. I’m not sure if it’s an art or a science, but certain people just have it. Celebrities especially embody this phenomenon. From Taylor Swift to Travis Kelce, Aaron Rodgers to LeBron James—and of course Serena Williams—many have built a reputation, sometimes even a single name, around staying in the spotlight. And my time on the water today, offered me an opportunity to ride, push and pull myself to and from the waves that Serena has put into the spotlight lately.

I question the authenticity of this message.

Although she said she was “evolving away from tennis” (Vogue), Serena Williams officially stepped away from the game at the 2022 U.S. Open. Fans hoped the 23-time Grand Slam champion might extend her legendary career by becoming the winningest player of the Open era. Instead, her final match ended in a hard-fought third-round loss to Ajla Tomljanović. Regardless of the result, all present were grateful to witness such a historic milestone in tennis and in sport.

In the three years since, Serena gave birth to her second daughter Adira River Ohanian. She founded Serena Ventures, invested in the growth of flag football in partnership with the NFL,and much more. Perhaps you caught her crip walking during the Super Bowl half time show. Far from slowing down, Serena continues to make her presence felt—and this week is no exception.

On August 24, 2025 Maria Sharapova was inducted into the International Tennis Hall of Fame. Serena speaks to what every tennis fan was thinking. 

I am probably the last person you expected to see here tonight, but honestly, a few years ago, I probably would have said the same. A few months ago, Maria texted me that she needed to talk… When I called her, she asked me if I would introduce her into the Hall of Fame, and before she even finished her question, I said, ‘Yes!’ loud, immediately, with my whole chest, because, of course, it's Maria. I was honored.

I had to watch for myself to find out how this happened. Serena said

If you're an athlete, you eventually find other athletes in the room. Because you know each other and you're on the grind year after year, Maria and I found ourselves at the same tables, at the same events, and talking to each other a little bit more. With no Grand Slam match, the next day, our guards were down, and little by little, we started to see each other differently.

She explains that it just kept growing. “One year was small talk, another year was real conversation. And then one day, it just clicked this person I spent years battling across the net like we actually like each other,” she said.

I didn't expect their story to unfold in this way. These waves were progressive. They led to an unexpected shore. 

Just three days earlier, Serena appeared on the TODAY show, while her sister Venus was only a few blocks away in Manhattan preparing for her match at the 145th U.S. Open, with her fiancé Andrea Preti cheering from the stands. Together, the Williams sisters are also launching a new podcast, Stockton Street—a tribute to the street where they grew up. I, for one, can’t wait to hear what they choose to unpack and share in those conversations.

Those waves were energizing. But, they were the calm after a storm. The reason Serena was on the TODAY show was to speak about her weight loss journey, which she attributes to the usage of GLP-1, through Ro, for which she is a paid spokesperson. I encourage you to watch for yourself. I sincerely hope this is a decision that she made in consultation with her physician.  

While she plays to the heart strings of any person who carries extra weight, I do not support or affirm her decision.

I know so many women who speak to the difficulty of losing weight after giving birth—especially those who have a children in their late 30s and 40s—like Serena. You might hear more women chime in on how much more difficult it is to drop the lbs as they approach menopause. Men and women on weight loss journey feel defeated in doing so much for little to no results. GLP-1s seem to be the most viable and reliable solution. Are they? 

I am sensitive to the fact that this obesity and being overweight has a strong impact on the body—the heart, joints and bones, and this drug offers a healthier alternative. However, I still struggle with those who take the drug to tip the scale to a number of their liking. One of my students said "it's hard for me to see the picture of her holding a needle on an advertisement for the product. That contradicts what I value in her and who she is." 

Serena said "I literally tried everything." This feeling is not uncommon. She mentioned that in spite of personal measures, the scale did not budge. Make no mistake about it— it is frustrating to "lose to this opponent" as Serena said. But I have to wonder if we are looking at it all wrong. Ought we accept ourselves for who and what we are? Yes, there's an entire industry of beauty products that want us to do otherwise, but weight is a front and center among those choices. Is weight something we must "beat?" And just because one CAN take (and afford) GLP-1s, should they?

I see and read campaigns for body positivity on regular basis. I question if people truly believe in this mindset and mentality. Athletes in particular have been tasked with serving as ombudsmen for the cause and Serena was a champion among them. She has often spoken about criticism of her muscular build, reclaiming it as a source of power and redefining what strength and beauty look like in women’s sports. Now it seems that she feels that her build was the enemy and GLP-1s are the solution. 

Truth be told, they are. Millions of people are eating less and weighing less because of these drugs. But are they healthier? For many, the side effects are debilitating; for others, the cost is simply prohibitive. While she helped bring the conversation into the open—hoping to destigmatize their use—it troubles me how quickly these drugs have become normalized. I worry about a distorted perception of fitness, one that equates health with thinness. The wealthy and those with access to the drug are thin; those who cannot—or choose not to—take it are not. Maybe that doesn’t matter to you, but it does to me. The more we obsess over outward appearance, the less attention we give to what truly lies within. Why that matters is another important question.

The issue of GLP-1s ushers in one wave after another. I've written about it before. And when my favorite female athlete became a spokesperson for the product, I had to wade through the water.

Standing in the middle of a lagoon on my paddle board, I realized I found something I once practiced regularly: exercise. no sound. I wasn't listening to a podcast or any music. The only sound I could hear was the wind and the waves. Although I had to navigate the SUP, I realized that the time on water freed me to work through what I value and what I believe. 

I have written about Serena Williams time and again in the sixteen years I have had this blog. She has been a source of inspiration for me. She is unlike no other.  She is evolving; but I am not energized by this focus or these efforts. I know more waves will come....

Photo Credits
tape measure
Ro
Body Positivity
Maria and Serena