The Divide

Let's talk about THAT article, shall we?

This past weekend, “The Atlantic”, a publication which I have no business reading with any regularity, posted an article about the impact that niche sports (like lacrosse) have on getting kids into Ivy League - and other academically elite - schools.

The article was written by Ruth S. Barrett, who wields a deft hand navigating a litany of controversial topics. And by deft I mean she brandishes a halberd of dichotomies like a Valkyrie. And yet, I have nothing but positive adjectives to describe her end product, as damning as some of the quotes may appear. The problem is that said product is wildly polarizing, especially as it relates to the sport of lacrosse - which is why you’re here. 

Let’s look at the lacrosse specific sections that rankled the masses.

“The Varsity Blues scandal exposed how hedge-funders and Hollywood B-listers were turning their progeny into football kickers and coxswains through the magic of Photoshop. But more commonly, alpha sports parents followed the rules—at least those of the meritocracy—only to discover that they’d built the 80th- or 90th-best lacrosse midfielder in the country. Which, it turns out, barely qualifies you for a spot at the bottom of the roster at Bates.”

Hollywood, a place where the sport of lacrosse is the butt of any possible joke about unbridled opulence actually caught in their own schadenfreude? Delicious. The 80th or 90th best midfielder in the country is not just rolling up to Bates to ride the pine. I know contextually they’re speaking about Ivy League and NESCAC schools but that statement is sprinkled with a fair amount of cynicism. Then again, that’s what this entire article is about. 

“They’ll always wonder what would’ve happened—and who they could have wowed,” Inside Lacrosse CEO Terry Foy told me, referring to the high-school seniors. “To have that opportunity lost …” His voice trailed off, before he picked up again, mournfully: “The kid who would have gone to Yale now goes to Georgetown. The kid who would have gone to Georgetown now goes to Loyola. On and on. And then eventually you get down to Wentworth. And then you just don’t play college sports.”

This is the quote everyone is mad at because apparently everyone is a Wentworth fan. First off, I know Terry Foy, and the only time I’ve ever seen him say anything “mournful” is when I walk into his office, he realizes that it’s me, and he has to say “Hi”. (That’s what we like to call a bit of editorialization.) The point is not that Wentworth is at the bottom of anything; quite the opposite - it’s a very good school...And that’s the thing, isn’t it? “Really good” isn’t good at all. It’s crap. It’s garbage. “What’s your school’s rank? Ew.” It’s an article about elites and that’s how they think, but man that is depressing. 

The thing this article glosses over is the thing that I believe is the most important part of college athletics. That thing is the value of the student-athlete experience. Parents, if your child is lucky enough to get into the right school with the right coach in the right program  - they get the greatest set of gifts anyone of that age could ever receive once they are out of your care. No, sorry, I don’t have an exact dollar amount on that, but let me get back to you. 

“One Greenwich parent told me she believes that, far from being a glide path to the Ivies, lacrosse had actually hurt her older son’s college prospects. As team captain and a straight‑A student with stellar test scores, he would have been a credible applicant to NYU or Columbia—but these schools lack varsity-lacrosse programs, and he’d fallen in love with his sport. “There were eight or 10 strong academic schools we couldn’t even look at, because they didn’t have varsity lacrosse,” she said.”

You know, I actually love this. This is a parent that kno - oh. Oh, no. This is the next paragraph:

“Her kid just completed his freshman year at a not-so-fancy college in the South, and, according to his mom, he’s happy enough. But she feels bitter, and wonders if her younger boy should quit club lacrosse. “The guys who get recruited to the Ivies—it turns out these guys are beasts,” she said. “I saw them at showcases. They were like stallions.”

Listen, I’m not a parent, so take this a grain of salt, but forcing your kid to quit anything is just as bad as pushing it on them. That’s not just sports, that’s anything. You want to give your kid the best chance for success and you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re sacrificing something there. And that something is potential happiness. 

“She and her husband feel hoodwinked by the directors of her son’s club-lacrosse program, which happily stoked her fantasies while stockpiling her money: $10,000 a year for 11 years. “They were talking Notre Dame for him,” she said. “Our eyes were glistening … We went to 16 showcases last year. I can’t believe the money we spent to see our son rejected 16 times.”

Aaaaand this is where I open up my heart and I bleed all over the place for super-rich parents that can afford to pay 110,000 dollars for their kid to “get seen”. Oh, look, I’m dead and my ghost is writing this. Hey, if you have that money and you paid it you can’t take it back. You have already bought into the premise anyway and it’s a lot cheaper than what those Hollywood people paid their consultants to help get their kids into schools. 

Club teams are like hit squads that rip off drug dealers. It’s a LOT of risk for a reward that is just as fleeting. There is no guarantee that next year’s class will be as successful - they’re completely different players with their own set of varying challenges. The best coach in the world isn’t going to put a player on an Ivy League roster every single year.

The next great blue-chip recruit is not going to be 5’ 9’’ 175lbs Johnny kinda-quick with nice hands and a good game sense; it’s going to be a 6’2’’, 225lbs monster that shoots 110mph off one foot and runs like the winter wind. 

Right?

“[Virginia coach Lars Tiffany] elaborates: “Do I hold the Fairfield County lacrosse player to a higher standard? Of course. You just know he’s been coached up. So flash-forward to me watching a [high school] junior on the lacrosse field. The thought is going through my brain that I like his skill set but there’s room for growth. But then I think, Wait. He’s already had a lot of people working on these things. He’s a little tapped out. Maybe I’ll take a player from Northern California or Texas. Someone who hasn’t been exposed to such elite coaching. Someone whose best lacrosse could be ahead of him. You try to tell yourself not to overanalyze, but you do.”

Different coaches look for different things in their recruits. It’s interesting that Lars (if you’ve had a coach smile and glare at you at the same time in a press conference you get to use their first names, that’s the rule) is the guy saying this because coming out of his mouth it is absolutely the most genuine sentiment. There is no finer renaissance man than Lars Tiffany out there, but his point is directly related to the one about elite recruits being elite athletes. It’s what coaches look for first because it’s the most predictive thing. Top tier coaches, whether they will admit this or not, all have one similar propulsive thought when they see their perfect recruit: “Even if he doesn’t get faster or stronger he can play right now, and even then we’ll make him better.” Yes, they love team guys, and hustle players and intangibles and supportive families...but at the highest level it’s about winning a national championship. Top 10 teams only stay in the top 10 with constant influxes of talent. That’s college sports. Sadly, so is this:

“Ann Kitt Carpenetti, who runs operations for U.S. Lacrosse, says that when a consortium of college-lacrosse coaches recently asked her organization for a closed-door meeting, she assumed that they wanted to discuss the rules for a large tournament. “They said, ‘No, we’re trying to help our student athletes navigate life.’ They’re not equipped. Growing up, they had everything organized for them, and now they don’t know how to take initiative.” Another topic raised by the coaches: the latest NCAA survey documenting binge-drinking, marijuana use, and other drug abuse. “The lacrosse rates are currently off the charts,” Carpenetti told me. “This is how our students are choosing to cope with physical and mental strain. It’s gotten so much worse. It makes me tear up.”

These are two points that are not as directly connected as they appear here. But we’re dealing with constant dualities here, so it’s easy to see how one could conflate the correlation. 

Let’s tackle that first point. One of the worst things about coaching is the anxiety that comes with caring about 25-40 young men or women. Not even caring - knowing that on some level you are responsible for them. You care for them. You teach them. You manage them. You inspire them. You do everything you can for them to succeed on the field and off. 

And you fail constantly. 

It doesn’t matter what level you’re coaching at or how established your program is. Not every recruit will work out. Not every player becomes an All American. Not every kid gets to hold a diploma. 

But do you know what a coach’s worst nightmare is? It’s that one of their players dies. It’s only a feeling you know if you’ve seen it or experienced it, perhaps in another aspect of your life. Lacrosse is a violent game. The newer rulesets have helped to de-escalate the risks of trauma on the field, but off of it...that’s where the sport lacks. 

Chasing the most elite education by attempting to gamify the process isn’t the way forward. It’s why everyone still makes fun of us.