Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Unsportsmanlike Conduct

















(Xavier Marching in...)


“Listen up Xavier,” I said, quieting down the rambunctious mass of red sprawled out before me. “For any of you who are running relays this afternoon, do NOT do what that last relay team did or you WILL be disqualified. That last relay team was DQ’ed for 3 reasons…#1 – deliberately blocking other runners. #2 - obscenely lifting up your shirt as you ran by the team – yes you – you know exactly what you did and #3 – for arrogantly turning around to provoke the other runners and crossing the finish line backwards.”

While there are many cultural differences between track and field stateside and in Micronesia, in my mind, sportsmanship is something that is not bound by region. In the Pacific, there is often times more glory to be found in riling up the supporting crowd than actually winning a race itself. There is a thick, dark line however, between firing up your own team, and doing it at the expense of the competition.




(Hoo Hah)






Three times in one race, I put my head down in shame to be a Xavier coach. No amount of natural talent warrants the haughtiness that some feel, comes with the territory. Xavier took first in that relay alright and they were going to let everyone know about it.

I saw the officials congregating after the race and casually strolled over to see if I could overhear the conversation. It was no surprise that the group of irritated officials DQ’ed Xavier from the race they had just won because of their actions on the field. Agreeing completely with the call, I marched my infuriated tukus over to the Xavier tent with the intention of warning them before such behavior continued to subtract points from our score. Unfortunately, I hadn’t quite prepared myself for the onslaught to follow. The athletes were outraged with the call. One, in a most meretriciously innocent act, even tried to convince me that he was simply “turning around to see how close the next runners were.” And then, the head honcho - director of the school speaks up.

( DQ'ed)

The actual conversation:

“What was the call?”

“Unsportsmanlike conduct.” I replied.

“Unsportsmanlike conduct? That’s not in the rules! The other teams were just as physical during the race. That’s ridiculous!” he fumed.

“The officials are right over there if you would like to speak with them.” I responded, trying desperately to keep my cool. Appalled, I turned and walked back towards the infield to avoid the nasty comments and vicious glares I had already begun to receive for not contesting the call. Of course, if the director stands up and protests – one, and by one I mean all of the students and Xavier fans, would naturally assume he is right and I am wrong.

How I wished the conversation would have gone had I had more audacity and quicker thinking on my feet:

“What was the call?”

“Unsportsmanlike conduct.” I replied.

“Unsportsmanlike conduct? That’s not in the rules! The other teams were just as physical during the race. That’s ridiculous!” he fumed.

“Not in the rules? You’re a Jesuit, director of a Jesuit High School and you’re going to tell me that unsportsmanlike conduct is not in the rules? It is in every game you’ll play….and for you to stand up – with no support or regard for my efforts to promote Christian sportsmanship and condone that type of behavior in front of all of these students is atrocious. You are responsible for what Xavier does – not the other teams – just Xavier and if that’s how you want Xavier to play the game – here’s the clipboard, you coach. I don’t want to win by your rules.”


(Where did that Loyola uniform come from?)










(Our one legged runners....no that's not a true statement!)










(Vincia...she's laughing - she's having a good time!)











Though the day was a blast up until, and even after that point, it brought back all too familiar memories of a basketball trip to Pohnpei gone awry.

Xavier ended up taking 2nd place to Chuuk High – a hard fought battle both athletically, on the field, and energetically, under the tents. The screaming, dancing, chanting and cheering intensified the sense of amiable competition that seethed under the surface of the obvious rivalry between athletes. When you think high-school track meet, I’m sure this is the farthest thing from the image currently being generated in your mind, but I guarantee it will be the best time you might ever have watching people run in circles and throw stuff!!!









(Mapa - rousing the crowd)









Fan Itom XHS - In Your Name Xavier....

When I was a little girl, I used to love the holidays…Our celebration was usually small – Mom, Dad, Michael Edward, Grandpa, Nana and me…I loved it when Grandpa and Nana would come because the holidays were never just one day. They always came a few days early to help get ready and left a few days later to help recover. When they came, you knew it was special. The house felt a little warmer – with the fire glowing, more warm faces and more hugs to go around; smelled a little more delicious with krispies in the frier and renowned red peppers and relish in the fridge; and looked a little brighter. Mom and Dad tell me that I was infamous for, on several occasions, getting so excited for these days I would end up with a stomach ache!

After the leftovers were wrapped, gifts put away and decorations taken down, my excited anticipation was proportional to the disappointment of knowing the holidays were over. With tears rolling down my little cheeks, I used to stand at the glass window on the front door, watching as Grandpa and Nana’s car pulled out of the drive way and sounded two honks before turning down the street. I never wanted them to leave because I loved the way the house felt with them in it…



What I loved most about Nana was her innocence…Her ability to see the good in people was astounding. Everything she did – the way she walked, the way she spoke, the way she held my hand, or wrapped her arms around me, she did with a delicate innocence. Which is something I could never figure out – how someone so innocent and fragile could simultaneously be the strongest woman I have ever met. She may have needed help getting in and out of the car, or up and down stairs, but her strength dwarfed mine even in the strongest race of my life. Her ability to endure the negative with such grace and faith is a trait one can only hope is genetic, or inherited through careful observation and admiration…


While I can’t prove that I am any wiser, time can verify that I am much older…yet I’m still standing at the door – tears in my eyes, not wanting her to go…I love the way life feels with her in it. However, life isn’t and wasn’t always beautiful, particularly in these past few months. The beauty in pain and suffering was very hard to find. But when you’ve spent your life loving your husband, your children, your grandchildren and your family with the strength and passion that she did….it makes for a very beautiful ride.

I’m sorry I could not be there for you Nana and I’m sorry if I caused you to suffer more than you needed to, but I know how much you loved me - you would never let me forget it. And I pray that you know how much I love you. Now it is perhaps easier to tell you in person that I am and will always be your big doll.

May the Lord’s light shine perpetually upon your delicate face as you rest in peace.

January 24, 1922 – April 20, 2007