Columns


Hey, we give 'em August off

By Clay Kallam
Publisher

The three-sport athlete is a dying breed.

The two-sport athlete, especially if basketball is one of them, isn't quite an endangered species, but she's getting there.

The competition is just too tough, the pressure too intense, to remain an athletic generalist for very long. Only the elite athletes, the incredible talents, can move from volleyball to basketball to softball at the high school level -- and even they will be hard-pressed to mix even track and basketball in college.

I can't help but look at this state of affairs with some regret. There's a lot to be said for having fun at three sports, and savoring every chance to participate. But the reality is that coaches, athletes and parents can't really afford to focus too much on fun because there's just too much getting in the way.

You can start with the coaches, and though they must carry a lot of the blame, it couldn't happen unless everyone else went along for the ride. And you get in the car when you answer this question: "So what are you doing this summer?"

What an athlete does in the summer is what she will excel in during the school year because the summer is when improvement is made. Each coach, naturally, wants her athletes playing her sport -- but there's only so much time, and decisions must be made.

Of course, some kids don't want to do anything during the summer but have a good time, and I find it hard to blame them. After all, we get to work the rest of our increasingly longer lives, so taking advantage of three months off at age 15 really doesn't seem like such an indulgence. But the athlete who does nothing in the summer but shoot a few desultory jump shots, go to movies and find a boyfriend is going to be behind when open gyms start in the fall, and even further behind when practice begins.

But the good athlete will get too much pressure to be lazy. If it isn't the basketball coach, it will be the soccer coach; if it isn't the soccer coach, it's the volleyball coach.

So if a coach wants to be left behind, all she has to do is take the summer off too. Then all the athletes will be working on other sports, and her team will be weaker than the others in her league that managed to get all the kids playing hoops.

(It's always been my contention that the key to success in high school coaching is this: Get all the good athletes out for your sport. It sounds simple, but it's harder than one might think. Since few athletes will play more than two sports, it's vital to convince those with talent that yours should be one of the two. Sure, you'll get the players who excel in your particular sport to play without much coaxing, but it's crucial to get the solid athlete who maybe is better at soccer to play basketball instead of softball. And that solid athlete might be your power forward, or three-point shooter, or designated defender -- even though she might never pick up a basketball after high school.)

And there's another factor for coaches: pride. We all want our teams to be as strong as possible, and we want them to play the game as well as possible. This takes time and dedication, and two months' worth of summertime effort can make a huge difference. Without it, and the potential for 30 summer games, a team just won't be as strong.

As proof, ask any college coach how big an advantage it is to take one of those summer trips overseas. The wins and losses (and the sightseeing) don't matter nearly as much as the chance to get in a few weeks' practice and hone some skills. The advantage is so pronounced that the NCAA only lets teams do it once every four years -- but in high school, it happens every summer.

And though many of the kids may moan, those with any hope of a scholarship know they have to work on their game all summer. Just like the coaches, they know if they take the summer off, someone else is gaining on them. A scholarship can easily be worth $100,000 and doing a 35-game tour of every gym in the region, and going to every available camp, is a small price considering the potential payoff.

Parents get drawn in here, but even though the money is an issue, more often it's their own pride in their daughters. They want her to be good, so they want a tough summer program. (Well, what they want is a summer program that's not too hot, and not too cold, but just right. Which, in practice, means that some parents are always upset that there are too many games and others are annoyed because their daughters are working hard enough. As every coach who ever put on a whistle knows, you can't win.)

So, starting in middle school, basketball players are nudged in the direction of using the summer to get better. By the first year of high school, the nudge has become a push. After the junior season, it's an imperative for the serious player.

And though a lot of people are unhappy with the system, and worry about overemphasis and burnout, there's really no way to change it. If this college coach doesn't recruit as fanatically as that one, which one will have the better talent? If this high school coach plays five summer games and that one plays 35, which will have the better team the following February? If this player watches cartoons and that one lifts weights and shoots free throws, which one has the better chance to be all-league? And if this very good player plays an AAU tournament every weekend and three summer league games a week and that one doesn't, which one is more likely to get a free college education?

The answers are obvious -- and that's why basketball is, and has to be, a year-round sport.