I have a confession to make. It’s unbecoming of a member of the non-violent and pro-feminist cohort of readers of bri xy, I realize, but here goes: I partake, almost daily, in the sports bickering.

The sports bickering (for the blissfully uninitiated among you) refers of course to the ever-expanding array of TV programs that feature, essentially, a handful of guys arguing about sports news. These programs range from the prototype “Pardon the Interruption,” where two sports writers playfully deride each other, to “Around the Horn,” which always closes with the crowning of a champion, the day’s superlative bickerer. Now when I say that I “partake,” I do not mean that I am a sports bickerer myself. Instead I join millions of others across the country to watch these shows at least a couple times per week. Indeed this bickering has become the primary vehicle by which sports news hits sports fans’ ears in the 21^st century.

To the extent that the sports bickering exemplifies an excessively impatient, arrogant masculinity enveloping yet another arena of popular culture, I accept your scorn, my fellow men-rethinking-manhood. To be sure, these shows often reward insults, generalizations, and one-upmanship (all of it interspersed with misogynist commercials for the-deodorant-that-shall-not-be-named). As with the world of sports writ large, there’s plenty to dislike about the sports bickering.

But I’ve set a more difficult task for myself today: convincing you that even in this most unlikely of masculine terrains, glimpses of progress are appearing more and more often.

Take the sports bickerers’ favorite topic, for instance: Legacy. Sports bickerers love the idea of legacy. On any slow news day, it is nearly certain that the bickering will include a question such as, “How does [achievement or underachievement] affect [famous player]’s legacy?” or “Is [player] an all-time great?”

There are rules to the sports legacy, as enacted and reinforced every time the shows address these questions. All the rules are variations on the ultimate rule (Win. A lot.) but together they represent a landscape that may be showing signs of wear. The Old Rules of Sports Legacy include:

• Greatness is measured in championship rings, a.k.a. Whatever you do in the regular season is meaningless – legacies are made in “the big game”;
• Rewards go to those who do the most (or most in a row) of something; and
• The greatest players and teams have “swagger” – they know they’re going to win.

Don’t get me wrong: these rules remain the pillars of the sports bickerers’ metanarrative. But new cracks are showing, and in very timely fashion.

As youth summer athletics begin across the country and the championship series for two major U.S. professional sports are underway, the conditions should be perfect for further entrenchment of the arrogant, aggressive, win-at-all-costs rules of sports legacy. After they come home from the latest little league game or soccer match, our children can watch basketball stars Kobe Bryant (who has admitted to a non-consensual sexual encounter with a 19-year-old in 2003) and Ron Artest (who was convicted of assaulting a fan in a 2004 brawl) compete for another championship ring. Flip the channel and they’ll see two top hockey teams take to the ice in the Stanley Cup finals to fight (in this sport, often literally) for their slice of legacy.

Yet during this of all weeks, I’ve been delighted to hear the sports bickerers praising hard work, love, and respect. So delighted, in fact, that I’m using this space to amplify them in the hopes of accelerating the erosion of the sports world’s aggressive values. Let me propose three New Rules of Sports Legacy, based on recent sports news.

New Rule of Sports Legacy #1: Whatever you do will be inconsequential, but it is very important that you do it.

Quoting Gandhi, this new rule rejects the notion that greatness only happens on big stages. Even as the NBA and NHL prepared to deliver another year’s worth of legacy-ensuring rings, the sports bickerers devoted the better part of a week to granting “all-time great” status to a conspicuously ringless athlete: Ken Griffey, Jr. “Junior,” who retired from baseball this week, was one of the best power hitters of his generation, and perhaps the only one never to be suspected of steroid abuse. His 21-year career never took him to the World Series, but neither did it take him to Congress where so many of my other childhood idols testified (read: shamefully lied) about their prolonged steroid use (read: cheating). Griffey was famous for other reasons: for combining homerun power with athletic fielding, yes, but also for his infectious smile and for being a dedicated son and father. In the record of baseball’s “big games,” Ken Griffey, Jr. may indeed be inconsequential. But I was delighted that the sports bickerers defined legacy with his workman’s smile this week. 

New Rule of Sports Legacy #2: Love is the most powerful four-letter word.

No, this rule doesn’t quote a Hallmark card. It quotes former UCLA basketball coach John Wooden, who passed away this week after more than a half-century of inspirational leadership as a player, coach, and teacher. By all means, Wooden’s 10 NCAA championship rings could have prompted the sports bickerers to speak of his legacy in terms of athletic domination and invulnerability. The first Old Rule alone assures him a tremendous legacy. Yet the vast majority of commentary failed even to mention Wooden’s win-loss record, let alone his string of championships. Instead, athletes, commentators and family members alike honored a man who lived a life of faith, love, and a commitment to teaching. Too young to remember Wooden as an active coach myself, I was struck at how irrelevant his on-court achievements seemed in comparison to his philosophy of teamwork and morality as the foundations of “the pyramid of success.” In stark comparison to the current milieu wherein college coaches’ greatness is measured by their ability to recruit one-year-and-done individual stars, Wooden’s sterling example consists of team-building, faith, and love above all. Indeed the story of Wooden’s vast love for his wife Nell superseded any stories of championship games in this week of widespread remembrance. And how fresh did that story feel, in the wake of the Tiger Woods fiasco and other headline athlete infidelities!

New Rule of Sports Legacy #3: Violence does not equal strength.

Finally, this third New Rule quotes the core principle of the Family Violence Prevention Fund’s “Coaching Boys Into Men” program. The program helps youth sports coaches to integrate messages of respect and non-violence towards women into their weekly practice routine, recognizing the particular influence that coaches have on the lives of boys. I am lucky to have assisted the International Center for Research on Women and FVPF in adapting the program for cricket coaches in India; at present the program also forms the basis for the “My Game is Fair Play” booklets distributed at the FIFA World Cup in South Africa. All adaptations of the project highlight “teachable moments” that help coaches and athletes to recognize opportunities both on and off the field to reaffirm their commitment to respect and nonaggression. One “teachable moment” involves a famous athlete being publicly accused of sexual assault. The program recommends that coaches use this as an opportunity to spread the message that athletic talent is no excuse to assault or disrespect anyone, and that “no means no.” While the news of Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger’s second sexual assault allegation was extremely disheartening, I noted for perhaps the first time that the sports media too recognized this as a “teachable moment.” Rather than assessing the consequences for the Steelers’ playoff hopes if Roethlisberger were suspended, the bickerers spoke of “entitlement run amok,” “excessive arrogance,” and “repulsive behavior.” These responses would seem less remarkable, to be sure, if they came from a source that didn’t regularly praise athletes’ “swagger.” But thoughtful pieces like Jack McCallum’s article in the May 10^th Sports Illustrated represent small steps (this is, after all, the magazine of the swimsuit issue) towards a sports commentary that not only respects women but also debases hyper-aggressive manhood.

None of us are likely to become “all time great” athletes. The only rings with which to measure our greatness will be those under our eyes after sleepless nights with the baby. But we will be arbiters of legacy, whether as sports fans, coaches, teachers, fathers, or grandfathers. And the subtle changes I noted in sports commentary this week, while certainly unable to supplant the hyper-masculine sports metanarrative, show that even in unlikely places there are men who value hard work, love, and respect over arrogance and violence. Let us continue to build a world, on and off the sports field, governed by the New Rules.

Coaching Boys Into Men materials are available for free download at www.coaches-corner.org

Here’s another email I’d like to share, this time one I sent a moment ago to the listserv “Men Against Violence.” The email is pretty self-explanatory.

Dear Men Against Violence,

It was a great day. I fell into tickets to the first round of the NCAA men’s basketball tournament and after an inspiring upset of Georgetown by a much-maligned Ohio University team, I was at the heights of enthusiasm about the inspirational role sports can play in the lives of young men: for the victors, the lifelong lesson that a “bad season” can be transformed in an instant with the right balance of confidence and grace; for the defeated: a renewed motivation to work harder, expect more, excel more. 

Having worked with ICRW in India on an adaptation of the Family Violence Prevention Fund’s “Coaching Boys Into Men” program, I am a big believer in the power of sports to shape and reshape what “being a man” means in the eyes of male youth. In Coaching Boys Into Men, youth sports coaches are called on to promote respectful and nonviolent relationships with women. But right in front of my eyes at the tournament were so many other critical, positive lessons about becoming an adult man: perseverance, cooperation, history-is-not-destiny, and more. 

So you can imagine my disappointment when I turned on the TV this morning, looking for the inspired faces of young men, and found… another hockey fight.

For any international or casual sports fan readers who aren’t aware, fistfights are a routine part of professional ice hockey in North America. By my limited understanding, each team keeps an “enforcer” on their roster whose role is to retaliate after any of his teammates suffer a particularly aggressive hit during normal gameplay. NHL officials openly support this feedback loop of aggression and assault, and apparently hockey fans’ hunger for fistfights is strong enough to support events such as 2005’s “Battle of the Hockey Enforcers,” where famous players engaged in fistfights on ice with no actual gameplay. 

This (admittedly individual) juxtaposition of the victorious and the violent made me wonder whether any of my colleagues on this list were aware of good advocacy materials relating to violence in hockey and/or other sports. Amid the din of ticket sales and commissioners’ staunch support of the violent tradition, I’m sure there is a quiet majority of former players, sports doctors, and fans disgusted by the practice. I hope, anyway.

Given how much good sports can do in the lives of young men (and if basketball isn’t your favorite, then look to ice hockey itself and its magnificent 2010 Olympic tournament, where fighting was strictly prohibited), it is a worthy cause to eliminate the bad they can do. 

Thank you for reading, and for being fellow members of the community of sports fans who admire athleticism and integrity over boundless aggression. 

For various reasons that don’t make perfect sense, I’ve been reminded lately of a few of my least shining moments as a son. To be fair, I wasn’t violent or criminal on these (or any) occasions, but for whatever reason the following three unsavory performances still carry the sting of shame: 

1. One night when I was 7, I convinced our babysitter to call the movie theater where my parents were seeing Ghost to demand that they come home immediately. I was sick, or pretending to be sick, or at least seeking to prove my wits against an obviously outmatched babysitter. This being before cell phones, she called the theater where surely some teenager with a flashlight called their names into a dark movie hall. And they came home shortchanged on their Swayze. I remember being instantly cured when they arrived, I remember my parents never even questioning my sickness, but I certainly don’t remember seeing that babysitter ever again.
2. For the entirety of a family vacation to Washington DC in 8th or 9th grade, I was a perfect little shit to my sister. I’m sure that the 12-year-old version of Heather wasn’t a hapless victim through the whole debacle, but I still recall with precise shame the pompous smirk on my face in all the obligatory monument photos, and the deep knowledge that I was knowingly refusing to shape up.  
3. Slightly less egregiously, I convinced my Dad to take me to a pro basketball game on the day before another family vacation - this time sailing the unusually stormy Caribbean - began in Miami. This was during the only year of my life when I was interested in pro basketball (or, at least, in the fantasy league my friends had started), and being in a city with an NBA team was a novelty for a Western Wisconsin kid. This time, the shame comes from knowing (and, indeed, causing) my Dad’s shame, as he paid quite too much for tickets from the first lucky scalper to approach us. He spent the majority of the first half rationalizing the purchase, convincing himself that it was part of “being on vacation” and thus acceptable. Insult to the injury of the extra expense, though, was his failed opportunity to show me that he could natively navigate uncharted sports terrain. I had long known, of course, that my Dad didn’t know everything, but this might have been the first time when he knew he had forfeited this secret. 

I’ve tried many times to confess these shortcomings to my parents, but even as my parents laugh them off they remain etched in my psyche. By this point their importance lies more in forecasting my vulnerabilities as a father, I’m sure, vulnerabilities to the tricks, the attitudes, and the wanderlusts of my own children. Maybe there’s something about getting that first good job, the one that prompts Dad to tell me that I have finally paid him back for his decades of personal and financial sacrifice for me, that brings the mind right round to the shames of men. 

Whatever the cause for the most recent return of these shames, I suppose I can take comfort in moving away from childhood’s shortsightednesses (if not its clear notes of emotion). But like always, the vulnerabilities - the endless chances to let down those who seek my unwavering right vision - aren’t going anywhere.