Mercy Rule: Helping Student Athletes or Teaching them Unrealistic Life Lessons?

When I was a senior in high school my baseball team tried to "reload" for the season after losing 9 seniors. I went to a 1A school in Utah which is the lowest classification school in the state, meaning losing 9 seniors (all who played vital roles on the team) was not an easy problem to overcome. Between the other senior and I we patched together a rag tag team that featured one junior, two sophomores and three freshman. After we recruited a couple of people who got cut from the track team, we rounded out with 11 players for the season. The diamond was not kind to us that season, we were blown out game after game and most of us began looking to a brighter day when the season would be over. Our saving grace to most games was that a mercy rule had been in place. The closest game we had was 7 runs. We didn't mind that the final two innings would happen, because it was 5 (or more) less runs we didn't have to deal with.

My opinion on the mercy rule in high school sports is torn, because I think that it does damper the life lessons that high school athletics teaches. When you are an adult there is no mercy rule in life, however my experience in baseball helped me see another light. We all wanted to play baseball and we worked really hard, we just weren't any good. In high school I would say that the rule has a place. At a time where young minds are being formed, the frustration of failure can have a huge negative impact on student athletes. It also promotes sportsmanship, by not running up the score, which is a huge aspect of high school sports (at least in thought, maybe not deed).

What could SUU do better to make sports better?

The obvious answer is money. More money, less problems. Currently SUU Athletics has the lowest budget in the Big Sky and it's not very close. More money equals better facilities, better marketing, better fan experience and better overall atmosphere. The hard part of that equation is where does it come from? You can't raise the dollar amount on students, they already complain about that fee. You can't really raise ticket prices, because attendance is already an issue when tickets are free or less than 10 dollars. You could go after alumni, but most are willing to unfold their wallets for academic purposes and not necessarily athletic initiatives. So even though money is the obvious answer it isn't the realistic one.

So what could be done? It's all about buy in. How do you get students and the community to buy into SUU athletics. Think about it for a second Eccles Coliseum sits around 7,000 and the Centrum about 5,000. Cedar City's population is just south of 30,000. Meaning you only need 25% of the community to attend a game for it to be a sell out. With support like that, a crowd behind the team (even when they are struggling) it wouldn't matter that we play is average arenas and stadiums or that our weight room isn't the quality of the nation's top programs. We would have unity and with that we would have strength. The environment has to be built. How is that done? The answer isn't easy, or it would already be in place. SUU which is built on community ties has the biggest issues with having that same strong support in the athletic arena. I don't know how that is done, but that's what I would do.

Legends Never Die: Buckaroo Boys Remembered

Legends Never Die: Buckaroo Boys Remembered

In the baseball cult classic The Sandlot, Babe Ruth inspires a young Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez with the saying "legends never die." Those wise words from the fictional Bambino inspired a quick backyard baseball player to accomplish the impossible. Those words, legends never die, also have a way of connecting fans with their sports idols long after they are gone. Even though the world has said goodbye to legends of the past, greatness transcends the grave. Names like Babe Ruth, Wilt Chamberlain and Muhammad Ali with live forever even though their swan song has long since been played.

In the realm of sports, death has a way of immortalizing not just those who were the greatest of all time, but those whom have said goodbye sooner than their there time should've run out. Hallowed names like Dale Earnhardt and Lou Gehrig are cherished because at the top of their prime. Equally remembered will be names like Pat Tillman and Jose Fernandez, who didn't have the careers of some of the greats, but who early death taught fans how precious life is. What they stood for and their potential is as honored and revered as the monster numbers and careers of the hall of famers who are playing in the eternal leagues above.

Death of an athlete might not be felt on a deeper level than small towns. In places where acres of land or numbers of livestock drastically outnumber the citizens of the community, home town heroes from high school teams have as much, if not more fame than some of the biggest names that have ever laced up a pair of cleats or donned a professional uniform. These amateur athletes united small communities and provide a form of entertainment that isn't available anywhere else. Think about it in rural lands where 5 star recruits are never grown, who's retired numbers are hung in solemn reverence in field houses and football fields? More often than not, it's players who didn't go on to be stars at the next level, but students who had big impacts in the classroom and community, then were taken away.

Two such small town studs whose athletic accomplishments were matched by their characters off the courts and playing fields are Kelvin Curtis and Randon Keyes, both graduates of Monticello High School's class of 2008. These names won't find relevance in the Utah High School Athletic Association record books, but for Buckaroo fans of the small Utah town of Monticello Curtis and Keyes are legends who will never die.

Kelvin Curtis was born to wrestle. The youngest of the 5 Curtis boys, he was set up to follow his brothers in dominance of small town wrestling. Curtis instead shocked the world by deciding to make his mark not on the mats, but on the football field and the track circle. He was blessed with lightning speed, unmatched work ethic and the judgement that high school friends called "perfect." He was confident and never cocky. When others lets the emotions of the game take place in their minds, succumbing to trash talk and less than chivalrous behavior, Curtis served as a silent assassin letting his speed do the talking. "He was an example," said Curtis' high school coach John Dowell, "not only as a sportsman, but as a man." When Curtis hung up his football cleats and track spikes he had a football state championship and multiple sprinting state championships. He was a winner as an athlete and as a person.

Randon Keyes never shied away from his opinion, and never left a conversation without anyone involved knowing what that opinion was. Keyes' baseball coach and older brother Josh often said, "he was blessed with the best baseball talent this town had ever seen, and he'll be the first to tell you about that." Though Keyes won a state championship in football and balled out on the hardwood during his Buckaroo career, his heart was always the shape of a diamond. Keyes was the genuine article of "diaper dandy" as he was the first freshman to start anywhere for Monticello in more than a decade. His fiery attitude didn't only add to his feisty fastball, but game him that edge that hall of baseball's great players have to possess to be feared and respected. Though postseason success never was added to his legacy, Keyes will always be remembered as "the natural" in Buckaroo country.

These two boys, tied together by town, school and sports have a unique connection outside of their common alma mater. The two boys in less than a two year span, took their unique talents and characters to the other side when they tragically passed away. In 2015 Keyes was involved in a fatal car accident that would take his life.  A year later Curtis said goodbye to this world after falling during a climbing trip outside of St. George, Utah. Both funerals were attend by the majority of the population of the town. Both names have never been forgotten, by the rural townsfolk of that small southern Utah city.

"Randon did more for this community than hit homers and strike out rivals. He was the lifeblood of baseball and kept the team around when no one else could," said Keyes' high school friend and teammate Kevin Anderson. Following Keyes' junior season the Buckaroos graduated 9 players, which for a school of 120 students was a lot. Keyes was able to gather a rag tag of players that would have mad the Bad New Bears feel confident in their team. As a senior, Keyes led Monticello to 2 total wins and statistically had the worst season of his high school career.

"His senior year was his best," said baseball coach Josh Keyes, "he was the best leader I've ever seen and keeping baseball around that year kept the program funded by the school ensuring future players would get a chance to swing the bat as a Buckaroo." Keyes served as an assistant coach for Monticello after he graduated and coached several local little league teams until he passed. The culture he fostered a renewed love for America's pastime in southeast Utah.

While Kelvin Curtis was running over and past football foes as a freshman and sophomore, some of his upper class teammates were running the patience of the community dry. "It was a tough time to root for the football team," Monticello citizen Jenny Black said, "the juniors and seniors had broken the trust of the community." Drug addiction and poor decisions led to several "stars" of the football team burning the fan bridge in Monticello to the ground. During his junior year Curtis and the football team suffered through the lowest attended season since pigskin was a regular sport at Monticello High.  Curtis led the senior class the next season to new heights not on the field, but in the community. Through his example of leadership, citizenship, service and honor he showed the city of Monticello that good could be found in it's high school athletes.

"For the first time in several years I could take my boy to a football game and when he said he wanted to be like on of the players I didn't have to cringe, Kelvin gave us that back," said Jenny Black. Curtis' example forged a culture that not only desired success at an athlete, but success in every aspect of life. He was a giant on the field, in the classroom and in the community.

There are two headstones in the Monticello Cemetery that stand high, even though both of them are modest in design. Those stones mark the final resting place for two sports legends. Two legends who were apart of something bigger than themselves. Two legends that will never die.

Steroids belong in the Hall of Fame

The argument has been swung to each extreme concerning steroids and the Hall of Fame in Major League Baseball. Both sides, to an extent, have an argument. "Cheaters never win," well they actually win a lot, I would say a more appropriate saying is, "if you ain't cheating you ain't trying." This argument of tarnishing the game by cheating was semi-valid at the beginning, but as it became apparent that a good amount and even a majority of MLB players were juicing versus just a few, the power of that stance dispelled like a the energy from the stadium after a big time home run turn out to be a warning track power hit.

Baseball, though being America's pastime, has been riddled with controversy since it's inception. Racism and intolerable behavior characterized the diamond for hundreds of years before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier and even then it wasn't a walk in the park for him or any other black baseball player. Look at the Chicago "Black" Sox or Pete Rose to understand that gambling has left it's own sour mark on the game. Or recently stories of drug and alcohol abuse have ruined the reputation of beloved players and even been a knock on the game.

In my opinion to withhold players like Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens because they participated in someone that was considered cheating is a little absurd.  If you're going to hold back baseball's home run and strike out kings then remove the Babe and Ty Cobb who played in an era of inequality. Make sure one of the game's greatest hitters, Mr. Pete Rose stays away from Cooperstown. Be prepared to say no to some of this generations darlings like Alex Rodriguez.

Steroids will be connected with professional sports, especially MLB forever. We need to quit pretending it never happened and realize that it is regrettably a part of the game. Shame on you for watching on the edge of your seat as Mark McGwire and Slammin' Sammy Sosa raced for the home run title or rooting as Bonds smashed ball after ball into McCovey Cove and now in the aftermath stand up and say they were wrong. The steroid era of baseball is just that, an era of the game. It happened and will never go away.