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From Marc Bloom: "I
wrote the following story on the Rockford (MI) High drug dispute
in the March, 2002 issue of my 'Harrier' high school distance magazine.The
article drew an extraordinary reaction, especially from coaches
who felt I'd raised many important issues about the nature of coach-athlete
relationships. Togive the piece the broadest possible audience,
I took up John Dye's invitation to have the story reprinted here.
It will also appear on my own site, theharrier.com. Readers are
welcome to respond to me personally at [email protected]."
by Marc Bloom
By now, you may have heard that Brad Prins, the highly-successful
boys and girls cross-country coach
at Rockford High in Michigan, resigned his position last month in
the aftermath of charges that he dispensed cold medications and
vitamins to his athletes.
The dispute blew up in the Grand Rapids Press, which published
a series of articles alleging that Prins,
against school district policy, had given his athletes medications
like Advil and Sudafed as well as vitamin C. The stories charged
that Prins had been warned previously by school officials against
this practice, which was done without the formal permission of the
athletes' parents, but that he continued doing it.
In the Press and in subsequent accounts on Dyestat, Prins did not
deny the essential charges. He disputed the extent of the charges,
and how recently he'd continued dispensing the medications. He also
called certain former athletes who'd leveled the charges liars.
In the Rockford area, the controversy was on the scale of the Olympic
figure skating scandal. The town was pitched in a debate that continues.
Prins had ardent supporters among team members and parents. And
he had detractors, including the Rockford High track coach and two
Rockford middle-school coaches, all of whom resigned as a show of
protest against Prins' actions.
Prins, 61, a retired math teacher at the school, had coached Rockford
since 1992 and turned the teams into national powers. He's the man
behind Dathan Ritzenhein, Rockford's 2-time Foot Locker champion
and 13:37 5k runner who is now a U-Colorado freshman. He's the man
behind the Rockford girls, ranked #1 in the nation in The Harrier's
Super 25 (in a tie with Saratoga Springs of NY) in 2000, and ranked
in the top-5 for four straight seasons including last fall.
Ritzenhein defended Prins, issuing a statement that said, "I
fully support him and...owe him much more
than I will ever be able to repay." Ritzenhein also affirmed
that Prins made medications and over-the-counter supplements available
to athletes. Ritzenhein lashed out at former teammates' parents,
saying "How come the topic was never brought up when their
children were running well and looking at full
ride scholarships to Division I schools."
Good point. The simple response is that parents understandably
cannot mess with their youngsters' college plans. Parents tend to
ride out an issue like this. The more complex answer is that teams
can become family extensions. Athlete and team and coach and parent
are a continuum. You're dependent on the group's grasp and its success.
I asked Prins about that success at the 2000 outdoor track nationals
in Raleigh. Prins told me, "I coach the way I teach. I love
to teach and set the bar high. I demand that kids strive for excellence.
You work hard and have fun at the same time."
I liked the sound of that. But with the controversy that has enveloped
the Rockford program, I thought back to some remarks a couple of
the top girls on the team had made to me. They characterized Prins
as tough, perhaps too tough; like maybe they paid too high a price
for their excellence. Who can say for sure. These were teenagers
talking. But if you coach, like I do, and spend a lot of time around
kids, you acquire a sixth sense. You get to know when they make
a valid point. Still, should we condemn a coach for being demanding,
or tough, or even very tough? Of course not. We'd have to come down
on an awful lot of coaches. And let's face it: we know that many
kids thrive on tough love. But when does a coach clearly overdo
it, risk harming kids and deserve reprimand?
The Rockford episode speaks to that question and many larger issues
pertaining to what we are doing with young runners in the first
place. Coaching involves a lot more than training kids to perform.
How much do we need to get out of kids as high school athletes?
What level of excellence should we aspire to? What fusion of nurturing
fun and run-through-walls training is the proper mix for most kids?
When do our desires as coaches override the rights of young people?
What are the special needs of girls, who confront complex issues
over adolescent changes, body image and eating disorders? And, mostly,
what are the specific responsibilities we bring to every practice
and meet when we are engaged in coaching our runners?
I called Prins for his comments, leaving a message on his machine.
He didn't get back to me. Who can blame him for not wanting to go
into the whole mess one more time. I would have asked him how a
man of his stature could have used such poor judgment. I personally
saw Prins' hard side when, in September, 2000, I moved the Rockford
girls from #1 in The Harrier Super 25 to a share of #1 with Saratoga.
Prins sent me a fax ripping me. His language was coarse and he cancelled
his subscription. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I said
to myself, this is an esteemed coach? This is the sincere guy I'd
spoken with a few months before? Ease up, fellow, is a team ranking
really that important? And, for crying out loud, you're still #1.
But I like to give people, especially coaches, the benefit of the
doubt. Recently, we were told the "dirty secret" of figure
skating judging. Here's our dirty secret: coaching can become a
drug. Success can become addictive. Running well, improving then
winning, then state honors... Once you taste that, it's hard to
let go. And then it's so easy to go overboard--to be excessive and
possibly compromise kids' best interests. I've seen it in myself
as a coach. I know I've let success get to me. Once you connect
with kids, you have power over them. How you use that power becomes
critical.
Friends, this is not a professional sport. We are in high school.
Do not use the "pursuit of excellence" as
an excuse to abuse your power. In the end, whether you win or lose
doesn't really matter; whether you're ranked 8th or 18th or 118th
doesn't really matter. What matters is whether you help kids grow--whether,
like any good teacher, you touch their soul in a meaningful way.
Don't underestimate your role: you're as important as clergy. What
you say and do means everything. I've understood that much as a
coach. I've been extremely careful in how I relate to the boys on
my team. I think about how my comments or actions might affect their
thinking and values, or conceivably go against their parents' wishes.
I put myself in the position of a parent: how would I want my own
kids treated by a coach? I am always aware of the boys' safety.
When they cross a main thoroughfare at the beach to train on the
boardwalk, I practically hold their hands. Try doing that with 17-year-olds.
When we drive to another practice site, I notify parents beforehand,
asking if it's okay for their boys to ride with a student driver.
If one kid drives too fast for my taste, I pull him aside and give
him a talking-to he won't soon forget.
If they complain of leg pain after practice, I do what Prins said
he did with his athletes. I suggest they take Advil or another anti-inflammatory.
But I would not dare give a medication. That is rightfully outlawed
in virtually every school district in America, for obvious reasons.
In our school district in New Jersey, teachers are not allowed to
give a child so much as a cough drop. And if I do suggest Advil
to an athlete, I always say it with this caveat: "Check with
your parents first," or "Make sure it's okay at home."
And I will often call the parents to tell them that their son has
leg trouble and if it's alright with you maybe he should take something.
The parents are thankful for my call--I've placed the decision in
their hands where it belongs.
Is there a greater responsibility than being entrusted with the
well-being of someone else's children? Like it or not, we are God
out there. Kids depend on us. Parents go to work and hold dearly
to blind faith that we are doing right by their youngsters. Some
are divorced. Their kids suffer with that. We have to pick up the
ball. Where does a trophy fit into this picture?
Prins has said he's a proponent of "supplements" tohelp
athletes run better. Fine. Suggesting and giving (especially after
you've been told not to) make all the difference. And let's not
forget that some of this stuff, like Sudafed, is on the banned substances
list of the NCAA, USOC and IOC. They are considered performance-enhancers.
Kids know that. What are they doing taking "illegal" substances?
Or, as one prominent former athlete and college coach in Michigan
told me, "If a kid doesn't have a cold, why is he taking a
cold medication."
I called some running people I respect in Michigan to get their
perspective on what's been going on in Rockford. The consensus was
that Prins has been an outstanding coach but that he abused his
role. Apparently, the community at large is split that way. Some
want his head. Others support him.
One college coach told me, "Brad has meant a lot to a lot
of runners." A high school coach said, "There is a feeling
he was not doing it [drug dispensing] with malice and had the kids'
best interests at heart." At the same time, these same people
said, "I wouldn't want to jeopardize a kid who might have an
allergic reaction [to medication]." And: "It [medication]
could have had an adverse effect on one [Rockford] runner"
who experienced an accelerated pulse, possibly attributed to the
caffeine content in a medication he took.
Merely the possibility of a bad reaction to drugs is grave. The
Grand Rapids Press quoted several former Rockford runners saying
Prins gave out medications. One girl, now running college, said
in the paper: "He did give us Advil or Vitamin C, sometimes
before races." As happens in a small community, some people
blame the newspaper, shooting the messenger. But from what I've
read, I think the paper's got it right. One columnist wrote: "To
me, the biggest problem at Rockford isn't the deliberate violation
of school policies, but the fact that the kids knew it was wrong,
the coach knew the kids knew it was wrong, and the kids knew their
parents knew it was wrong, yet everybody tried to justify it because
the team was doing so well...A coach's first responsibility is not
to see that your child wins. It is to see that your child learns
the proper values...Sports should help teach a kid how to live,
not how to win."
I'll go one step further and urge that we be ultra-careful with
girls, who are easily overcome by guru-style coaching, oftentimes
to their detriment. Girls want to please. They are obedient. They
do not question. They will fall under an overzealous coach's spell.
This can result in a kind of team-cult, with its own set of rules
and mores, reinforced by winning.
As the Grand Rapid Press columnist wrote: "Loading a kid up
with drugs--prescription or non-prescription--to help enhance performances
is a cheap, despicable trick, and I can't understand any parent
wanting a child in the coach's care, no matter what it does to the
program."
Yet, Prins said, he expects to continue coaching Rockford runners
in his summer program under the auspices of his North Kent Running
Club. Apparently, many parents are on board for this. Prins likened
the club to Team USA's Hanson's running club in Michigan. However,
Hanson's is a group of professional runners. North Kent may indeed
wind up professional by definition. One source close to the situation
told me parents may hire Prins to work with their youngsters on
a paying basis. The awful irony of this whole mess is that the supposed
purity of cross-country is being undermined.
What happened to the beauty of just running? Don't we love criticizing
youth soccer and basketball and even club swimming for their excesses:
for their all-or-nothing attitudes, domineering coaches; for the
way they "professionalize" kids' sports. I like to think
cross-country is above that. But now I wonder.
This sorry episode should serve as wake-up call for all of us in
the cross-country and track community. Working with kids is privilege.
Training them to improve, to be better young people, is a privilege.
We have been given a sacred trust. It must never be violated.
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Marc Bloom's "Harrier" publication
(8 issues a year) features penetrating stories like the above
on all aspects of coaching, training and the success and well-being
of high school distance runners, in cross-country and track.
6 issues in the fall, 2 issues in spring. Subscribe now and
you get the spring 2002 issues for free.
To order a subscription, CLICK
HERE.
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