The WCAL: A coveted title, a Catholic league

Many high school coaches and athletes in the West Catholic Athletic League (WCAL) will agree--winning the WCAL title is a bigger deal than winning the Central Coast Section (CCS) division title. This should seem illogical. Whereas the CCS of California is comprised of over 100 schools --in a geographic region stretching from San Francisco in the north to King City in the south, the WCAL consists of just ten schools that compete in a boys and girls league. All ten schools are Christian, and nine out of ten are Catholic, several are diocesan schools and others are run by a variety of religious orders. Loyalty to these schools runs deep; rivalries among Catholic schools can be fierce. Consequently, becoming the WCAL champion is a coveted distinction. Victory tastes very, very sweet.There is something special about being part of the WCAL. Perhaps I recognize this because I attended Carondelet, a Catholic girls’ school in Concord, CA-- the only Catholic secondary school in both Contra Costa County and in the Bay Valley Athletic league. Because other schools in the BVAL do not have an open enrollment policy, our competitors often felt they were at a disadvantage. No doubt, we drew from a broad area. Coaching in the WCAL, this distinction is of no significance. We compete against other schools that are supposed to be a lot like ours—only they’re not.

Some schools in the WCAL are true “city schools.” Others are located in the suburbs. Some have populations that are more racially and religiously diverse. Despite many differences, what unites us is so much more than what separates and divides us: it is our common faith. Our foundation is to educate our students and coach our athletes with the love of the Lord. Even though we often fail, we strive to represent something more than ourselves. Our athletes are quite often the public face of what many people refer to as a “private” school. I don’t. I always say a “Catholic school.” And that means a great many things.Being a Catholic school is demonstrated in a number of ways in the WCAL. Before competitions, not only do we salute the flag, we bow our heads in prayer. There is an on-going and vibrant concern for the spiritual formation of our athletes. When ƒcoaches gather for informational meetings, at the beginning of each season, this is often considered. League policy mandates that we do not hold practice on Sundays. In an increasingly busy world, it becomes that much more difficult to observe the Sabbath. I am grateful that the WCAL is committed to at least one day of rest per week! The WCAL was created in 1967; generations of Catholics have had the honor of competing, coaching, officiating and watching athletes with heart, hunger and faith.

I am curious to know how many other Catholic leagues exist in the United States. What are their distinctions, traditions, triumphs and struggles? How does winning the title in their league compare with the pride and honor of winning the WCAL. Fortunately the advent of CatholicSportsNet: “a website that will serve as a national showcase for on and off the field achievements of male and female Catholic high school, collegiate, and professional student-athletes, teams, coaches, and administrators” may provide me with some answers. Evidently, it is the only media outlet in the sports industry that can lay claim to the reporting solely of Catholic sports. According to their website, CatholicSportsNet.com will “serving nearly 1,200 high schools, 220-plus colleges, and over 70 million Catholic Americans around the country, CSN will provide up-to-date news, feature articles, student-athlete spotlights, national rankings, recruitment information, and a comprehensive multimedia unit that will include weekly newscasts, interviews, and streaming video.”

This fall as students return to practice and to competition, I look forward to using CatholicSportsNet to determine how those in the WCAL compare with others both locally and nationally. And of course, who will earn the WCAL title.


Photo Credits
WCAL Logo
Serra Padres: WCAL Champs
WCAL Logo: The Medley
XC: WCAL Championship

The Via Negativa: Steve Nash is not God.

Negative theology or Via Negativa (Latin for "Negative Way")—is a theology that helps one to understand what God is, by what God is not. To me, it’s quite simple--a square is not a circle, it’s not a triangle either. It may be a rectangle but it does not have unequal sides. Because not all matters in theology are objective, however, this theology is practical and especially helpful. Essentially we are attempting to describe the indescribable. For example, literature makes great efforts to outline and identify what is beauty—a subjective matter. Beauty may indeed be “in the eye of the beholder,” but beauty is certainly not rape, it is not napalm and it is not bullying.
I hope we can all agree, objectively speaking that the Summer 2010 alumni magazine of Santa Clara University is a handsome cover. It features Steve Nash ‘96, a native of Vancouver BC, holding the Olympic torch. I was hoping to read a thoughtful piece about Nash’s athletic endeavors since his success at SCU; during his senior year his team made it to the “Sweet 16” round of the NCAA basketball tourney. Perhaps he had a special role in the 2010 Winter Olympics, I thought. Instead, information about Steve Nash was limited to the “Letters” section. This surprised me for three reasons. One, it seems unlikely, at least to me, that a “letter to the editor” would drive the content for the cover. Second, the author, Brian Doyle is the only non-alum to submit a letter that was published (although the author of this blog and reader of the magazine is not an alum either). He is the editor of Portland Magazine, the alumni publication from the University of Portland. Third, Doyle’s letter is entitled “Thesis: Steve Nash is God.” Steve Nash is a great many things, but Steve Nash is not God.

Make no mistake about it—Steve Nash is an incredible athlete and basketball player. Doyle points out that he “was named the most valuable player not once, but twice.” He adds “He’s actually better with age, and how often can you say that?” Steve Nash may “arguably the best point guard in the world, a remarkable statement considering that he’s older than Chris Paul…etc.” but he’s not God. He is not the Alpha and the Omega, the unmoved mover, or the primary source. I know Brian Doyle was trying to make a point, and employed humor to emphasize his point. Point is taken, but this point has also provided grounds by which to apply the Via Negativa.

Doyle reports that Steve Nash “eats no sugar, just like God.” In my 12 years of teaching theology I have yet to come across a proof for God that speaks of God’s dietary preferences. “He lives in a place filled with light, just like God.” I don’t care how many days of sun they have a year in Phoenix. Considering the recent immigration laws passed in Arizona, this is quite a stretch. And “He went to a Jesuit university—just like God.” God is all knowing, omniscient, but God did not go to college. It may be difficult for negative theology to lead us to a perfect understanding of God, but the goal is that it will get us close. And in that spirit, I concede that Doyle some analogies work even if they are limited. He writes “Steve Nash has children, just like God.” Many people relate to God as father (or mother ), and many people are fathers and mothers; they have children. Considering some of the sacrifices my parents have made for me, I concur—they too are like God. “He has a sense of humor and can write his name, just like God.” In a game where men take themselves far too seriously, it’s good to read Nash has kept his humor. And in a world that is often difficult and trying, it’s just as important for us to remember that God has a sense of humor as it is for us to know that God writes God’s name. He does this not on stone, but in our hearts.

Perhaps that would have been a better title for this letter to the editor--Steve Nash: A man of humor and heart, just like God.

The SF Marathon: No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem...

I would never tell anyone to let the San Francisco Marathon be their first marathon. The primary reason is obvious—the course is quite challenging—read: hills, hills and more hills, but the others may not be. Many are drawn to this race because it involves running over the Golden Gate Bridge. In July, however the fog does more than creep in on little cat feet. A runner is lucky if they can even see the national park in a San Francisco “summer.” Third, this race is grossly under-publicized and under-supported. Considering that San Francisco is a city of only 49 square miles, and the marathon covers 26.2 of them, residents should be lining the course. Yet all is not lost; there is one very attractive option—the half marathon. 

The “SF half” was a bit of a “sacred cow” for my favorite running partner—Mike “Eggroll” Caponigro and me. Together, we have run it 5 times. We have taken a cab to the start that picked us up at 4:45 a.m. Mike’s wife Katie has brought “more cow bell” to this race than anyone I know. And each year, I see something new, dramatic and different. Even though I was unable to run this year, the 2010 SF Marathon did not disappoint.

In spite of  the 5:20 a.m. start time, Mike and I were able to see a lone runner waddling his way through Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s fair to say we heard this runner before we saw him. “Are those socks?” Mike asked. Upon further inspection, we realized they're actually thin rubber "shoes" with individual toe pockets. Called “FiveFingers,” they've been selling briskly to runners and athletes looking to strengthen their feet and sharpen their game. 

The New York Times bestseller “Born to Run” espouses the wonders of these shoes and their minimalist approach. 21,000 runners may take part of the San Francisco Marathon (it actually includes the full marathon, the option of running the first or second half of the marathon alone as well as a 5k) and these crazy shoes are quite the rage, but they are still a rare sight on the race course.

Because of my recent health heart/condition, I was unable to run this year. I was disappointed that I would miss out, until a friend told me I wouldn’t; he invited me to volunteer with him. I have no idea how many races I have run, but if I were to take a rough guesstimate, I would venture to say at least 10 a year for the last 15 years. It was high time I was at the other side of the water stop. I was curious about what I might see.

For over two hours, we handed out GU Energy packets. I loved greeting the runners as they came through. Their energy and determination was infectious; in fact it was symbiotic. I got energy from their enthusiasm, from seeing them fight through the pain and of course from reading their shirts and launching the appropriate cheer—“Go Blue!” to the man from Michigan, “Yeah Irish” to the fellow alum. 

I was, however, a bit surprised to see just how seriously so many people took themselves during the race. It did not matter if someone were running a sub 3-hour pace or 6-hour plus, if I wasn’t prepared to pass the GU in a timely fashion, most runners weren’t willing to make a pit stop. At other times, I felt as though I were running "the option." A few runners framed their hands in the way a football player cradles the pigskin. Thank you, Tony Rice for modeling such a good passing game! I saw all ages shapes and sizes. AND, I saw only one barefoot runner.

He ran alone, this barefoot runner. Based on the success of “Born to Run” and the increased number of “FiveFingers” I thought I would see other Zola Budds in the crowd. But, this trend may take some time, and calluses to build. It’s a dramatic shift. It is a risk. It is certainly countercultural.

I can’t tell you how often I must remind my students and myself that Jesus’ message was countercultural. What Jesus called people to was against the grain--dying to self, loving you enemies, turning the other cheek. Even learning to abide by the spirit of the law and opposed to the letter of the law is challenging, difficult and unpopular. And, to a certain degree so is running. Running makes difficult demands—it’s mentally challenging. It means surrendering to pain, pushing yourself to a physical limit. Of note, it is largely apolitical. Runners do not complain about not getting enough “play time.” In fact we’re one of the few sports where less playing time is better!

Running is not a revenue generating, high profile sport but I know a lot of people run and thanks to organizations like “Team in Training” many people who never thought they could run a marathon have. Thus, it does not surprise me that as the sport grows in popularity, or at least participation, that its countercultural roots bear new fruit. The minimalist running shoes or the barefoot runner makes a statement against a billion dollar industry—sports apparel. Many people, including the author of this blog, subscribe to the Gospel according to Nike. To entertain the notion that their technology may be unnecessary is tremendously radical, its brazen, its bold. I love it.

I think that countercultural thread speaks to the unique spirit of the sport that is both individual and communal, challenging and rewarding. So, to be consistent, I suppose my reasons for not recommending the SF Marathon amount to good reasons why a countercultural person should run it. A challenging course, freakish weather—one of the few US cities in July with temperatures in the low 50s, a disinterested fan base BUT a great GU stop. And, no shirt, no shoes = no problem.

Photo credits
SF Marathon Logo
Born to Run
Five Fingers
Golden Gate Bridge
The rose between two thorns: KT Caponigro

The Sound of Sports

The sound of sports is a curious, yet remarkable thing. The 2010 World Cup was characterized by bad officiating, yes, but even worse—the vuvuzela, that omnipresent plastic horn that is apparently indigenous to South African football (its name is believed to come from the Zulu tribe….makes me wonder if the Zulu parade at Mardi Gras will hand these out in addition to the coveted, bejeweled coconut). Sports Illustrated raised what I believe is a scary, yet fair question: Are vuvuzelas the new soundtrack of soccer? And should we dare ask, other sports as well? Apparently the Florida Marlins gave out 15,000 of them to their fans; I doubt that they are alone. As a mere television spectator, I never became quite used to the constant, nagging buzz. For those in the stands however, take note: Phonak a Swiss hearing aid company registered the horn’s sound at 127 decibels. This is 42 decibels louder than what’s considered safe over extended periods! I hope that the sound of sports would enhance the game, not hinder it.

The 2010 Masters brought more than its fair share of talk and media hype. Whereas many people wanted to discuss the choice language of Tiger Woods during the golf tournament, I wanted to know: Did CBS sports find a way to attach a microphone to the head of golf clubs? The sheer volume of the ball as it was hit off the tee reminded me of the sharp sound of the basketball hitting the rim, as heard during the NCAA basketball tourney. Why do we enhance sound in sports?

Sound can even affect the outcome of a game. In football, the home team has a viable advantage because the vocal participation of home fans can prevent the opposing team from hearing their signals. For example, Jimmy Clausen, former Notre Dame Quarterback had to take not one, not two, but four time outs in order to communicate the play with his offense; Michigan Stadium was that loud. When the Irish failed to execute for a first down, the sound of silence was nowhere to be found and the Wolverines celebrated their victory.

As with the vuvuzela, so much of the sound we hear at athletic events is just filler or noise. It can be distracting to the point that we may lose sight of what is taking shape. The challenge, however is to listen to determine and appreciate what is really unfolding.I recently attended a boys’ volleyball game at the high school where I teach with a friend whose nephew is a talented player on the rival team. It was a memorable evening for several reasons. What struck me most about that evening is not what I saw, but what I heard. The gym was flooded with the sound of the cheers and raw spirit of both teams until the bitter end. After every rally, every serve, even during plays, players communicated out loud with one another. They clapped, they pumped each other up, and their verbal support was active and authentic. You could not leave that gym unaffected by their spirit.

In a similar way, many people attend Adoration because prayer before the Blessed Sacrament has a profound effect on one’s spirit. When I learned that top Oakland A’s baseball prospect Grant Desme seeks this traditional devotion on a weekly basis, I asked why. Does it affect your spirit and if so how? His response wasn’t what I expected. He said “I go because it’s taught me to listen, to simply listen.”

This past Lent, I decided I would undergo a different type of practice. Rather than raising prayers of supplication—asking God for what I wanted, I set out to simply listen. I sought to hear what God might want to share with me. I committed to focusing my prayer in this way and found it takes patience, even courage to hear God’s word. We each yearn to hear God’s voice clearly and answer “Here I am Lord,” but in the bustle of daily life, many times, God’s voice is one that gets drowned out. I had to pay attention; it is one sound that I to train myself to hear. Once I was able to sort through the noise of my own distractions, it’s not as if I heard God call the audible. However, my time in prayer with the Lord reminded me of attending that volleyball game, I did not leave unaffected. What I heard, struck me. No wonder we say “Your words oh Lord, are spirit and life!”

I think it’s important to recognize the value in listening; it’s an art, a skill, a gift. In sports is an invaluable dimension of the game and in prayer its integral to building relationships with God. Elijah, a man zealous for the Lord, heard God’s voice not in the fire, or the earthquake but in the whisper of the wind (1 Kgs 19:18). We may find God’s word in unlikely places, at unlikely times. We just need to listen, and frankly the vuvuzela may make this difficult. However, if we do, I am convinced we can’t leave unaffected by God’s spirit.

Photo Credits
Vuvuzela

Michigan Stadium

Boys VB

Adoration

The Back Nine: John Daly & Me

Originally, this posting was to serve as a book review of John Daly’s autobiography “My Life In and Out of the Rough: The Truth Behind All that Bull**** You Think You Know About Me” but, truly there are few redeeming qualities to this bestseller. It is the same read as Priscilla Presley’s “Elvis & Me.” I am no speed reader, but for some reason that book captivated my imagination for a fortnight—kidding—rather in just a few hours. I devoured it cover to cover; I enjoyed reading such an intimate portrait of “The King.” Elvis was larger than life—literally and figuratively, and somehow, someway, so is John Daly.

The book is more about his life “in the rough,” than out of it. The New York Times said “Daly’s book is a chart of celebration and self-destruction and selfishness…” He made claims to his assorted addictions—alcohol, gambling, chocolate and sex. (Do you know how much chocolate one has to eat to be addicted to it?) Thanks to Tiger’s recent” transgressions” we know the image of golf as a “gentleman’s game” is a façade.Yet, his tales about how he came to play in his first PGA tour event and winning the British Open in a play-off on the Old Course at St. Andrews hold their own weight. Minus the way most golf stories include one to two parts addiction, their entertainment value is high and the reader can’t help but understand why the crowd loves “Big John.”

Daly wrote this book in 2006, shortly after his 40th birthday. Today, his name reappears every so often on the tour and my guess is he is still battling the same demons. But, as he so candidly reports “I’m lucky: I was born with a special talent for hitting a little white ball and making people happy. I’m really and truly optimistic: I think I’m going to do even better on the back nine.”

The Back Nine...for John Daly I’m sure he is referring to his next 40 years. For others, the back nine is a analogous to a watershed moment and for me, it is my life before I was diagnosed with my heart condition, ARVD. I am coming to terms with the reality that my life is going to be much different. The type and amount of physical activity and exercise I can now do, is limited and needs to be monitored. However, I am grateful to be in the game; it could have been a nine-hole course.

As I have been learning more about my health, I know there are courses that are much more challenging out there. Some have longer greens, others face more wind or adverse weather conditions. For example, I think of a young, beautiful Haitian professional dancer named Fabienne Jean. The TODAY show gave a report on July 12, six months after the earthquake in Haiti took lives and livelihoods of tens of thousands of people And, it took the soul of Fabienne when, she lost her leg. It was heart wrenching to see a once graceful fluid dancer, now an amputee just sitting day in and day out, on a plastic chair, along the roadside in her village. It looked as though she were waiting for someone or something, but considering the dire needs of so many people in her country, I could not imagine what. I thought about her “back nine” and could only see bunkers, bogeys…a whole lot of rough.

But “the Lord hears the cry of the poor. Blest be the Lord.” Fabienne reveals the truth in Psalm 34 as a company from the United States delivered and fit hundreds of men, women and children with prosthesis. It was and honor and a privilege to see this woman liberated with a prosthetic, to see her spirit come alive once again and to witness her total freedom as she expressed herself through dance. She may dance differently, but she dances again. I can’t wait to see what she does in the back nine.

 
As John struggled and battled on his front nine, I wished he had a strong faith in God to lead and guide him. He admits “I’m not a real religious person. My relationship with God is personal. But I think I was put here on earth for a purpose, and that purpose has to do with helping people. Everybody’s always asking me how come people love you so much? Is it because you hit a golf ball a long way? I don’t think so. Maybe at first, but shit, there are a lot of guys out there now who hit the ball just as far as I do. I think people love me because they know—they feel—that I love them. And I do."

As nonredeemable as John Daly’s story may be, it’s true. He loves people and the fans love him. I hope he will let these words guide his back nine. We’ll be there giving him high fives and chanting “Champions Come from the Heart.” At least I will….

Photo Credits
Cover Shot:
Classic British Open
Back Nine
Fabienne waits