Tacit approval of what we don't approve of

Last month, I qualified for and Participated in the NCAA Division III Indoor Track & Field Championships.  While the weekend in Lincoln, NE, and the frantic fortnight leading up to the event could be the subject of decently-lengthed short story perhaps of interest to a non-trivial number of people, I'd rather use this space to talk about my first personal experience with the NCAA; specifically, the manner in which the NCAA uses its student-athletes as advertisements for itself.

Briefly, some background.  I qualified for the meet running the second leg of Middlebury's 4x400m relay.  Fritz Parker, blog co-contributor, ran the first leg.  Middlebury also qualified one guy in the mile, a women's DMR, a woman in the 400m (she ran the 800m leg on the DMR), and a woman in the high jump.  We arrived in Omaha, NE, on a Thursday night and left before dawn on the following Sunday.  The Championships were on the intervening Friday and Saturday.  In terms of performance, my relay came in 12th (out of 12, but saying we were 12th in the country sounds a lot better than last), but we also entered the meet seeded 12th (again, last).

F. Parker             B. Holtzman             A. Nichols               P. Hetzler

As I mentioned, this weekend was my first direct experience with the NCAA.  Prior to my Participation, I had perceived the NCAA as two factions: the governing body of big-time college football (and basketball, but I don't follow CBB the same way I do CFB) and as the name of the national meet which I had spent four years trying to qualify for (much in the same way that, back in my day, Nike Indoor Nationals was the namesake of the national T&F meet run by the NSSF).  I never gave much thought to its governance over other sports and student-athletes.  The NCAA had never affected me before so I never considered it in that context.  The only NCAA regulation I ever cited was its ban on gambling as an excuse to get out of playing poker for money while home on school breaks.

That said, I have historically been a skeptic of the NCAA in regards to how it treated its high-profile athletes and teams.  I always thought the organization was out to get the odd athlete or program instead of protecting those athletes and programs (some examples, and it would be irresponsible not to mention that Oklahoma had to self report an NCAA violation because a few players ate too much pasta.  Thanks in large part to comments by Shabazz Napier, schools can now feed their athletes).  This historical skepticism was recently compounded by a renewed interest in the NCAA manifest largely by reading numerous news articles both criticizing and defending it.  With this in mind, I undoubtedly--perhaps subconsciously--approached my experience with disdain for the NCAA.

The NCAA Experience is one of continuous overstimulation.  Everywhere I looked, the NCAA was present.  From being constantly babysat to the countless number of blue logos emblazoned around the track, there was no escaping the watchful eye of the NCAA (nor the constant reminder that we were at UNL: popcorn isn't just popcorn, it's Husker popcorn; the time on the clock isn't simply just time, it's Husker Time, which, it's worth noting, was incorrect).  This made me uneasy.  Forgetting to wear my Participant badge made me feel like I was accumulating an NCAA infraction for each minute I was without it.

The NCAA has, in a sense, adopted the "everyone gets a trophy" attitude towards the championships.  By qualifying, I will eventually be sent an NCAA pull-over I can proudly wear around telling the world I Participated in an NCAA event, a drawstring bag, and a commemorative medallion.

(Side note--really wish I could do foot/endnotes on this blog: I am usually stoutly against the "everyone gets a trophy" attitude, but not in this case.  For example, I did not receive an All-American trophy by simply Participating, so there was some separation between the winners and the Participants.  Additionally, the commemorations are a nice reward for the accomplishment of qualifying.)

Right at the door to the track was an ad hoc gift shop selling shirts, sweatshirts, and hats with the NCAA logo and the event printed on them.  Items were flying off the shelves, appealing to the athlete's desire to be marked as a Participant when they return to their respective institutions (I'm guessing they don't have to wear a badge at school labeling them as a Participant).  I am guilty of purchasing apparel: I bought a quarter-zip sweatshirt and an Under Armour technical shirt.

Wearing my gear makes me uneasy on two fronts: first, I feel kind of obnoxious by showing such an outward display of my accomplishment.  Realistically, nobody cares that I Participated in the meet.  I also separate myself from my teammates; they don't need a reminder that we went to NCAAs--they all know we did.  Second, by wearing my gear, I passively tell the world I support the NCAA in whole when I staunchly do not.

We are Participants

The second point is what really gets me.  At most schools around the country, some segment of students (athletes?  student-athletes?  Participants?) are wearing NCAA sponsored apparel.  Here at Middlebury, I see students who have NCAA patches sewn on their backpacks, students carrying NCAA water bottles (officially sponsored by Powerade), etc.  Even when you're not at an NCAA event, the NCAA is present and ever-looming.  We Participants are propagators of its presence and the NCAA knows this.  It knows the Participants will display their free mementos and commemorations creating a walking advertisement out of every Participant.  When you add up EVERY athlete in EVERY sport in EVERY division, this number becomes quite large.  I'd wager 90% of them will show the world a piece of their memorabilia with some frequency.  This reminds everyone who sees such memorabilia a. that the NCAA exists and b. that Participating in an NCAA event is good.  To the second point, if one qualifies for NCAAs in something, one is obviously good at what they do.  The association of NCAA = good is immediate.  Unfortunately, there is not much depth to this association.  The achievement of making NCAAs is remarkable, but the associated approval of the NCAA--either by the wearer or viewer--is not questioned when it should be. 

This brings me to my concluding question: how can the accomplishment of competing in an NCAA event be separated from the NCAA (and thus tacit support of the NCAA)?  Students should not feel even the slightest amount of guilt about showing the world a memento of their accomplishment.  They should be proud of their accomplishment.  I am proud, damnit.  But I cannot, in good conscious, show my pride.  This, to me, is unfortunate and is a slight to every athlete in the country.