In the early months of the first semester, I wrote an article about drawing the line between tough and soft in the midst of an injury. I concluded that there is no universal equation to determine whether or not someone is acting valorously or foolishly when playing through an injury, and only the injured individual possesses the ability to dictate whether or not he or she should participate in an athletic contest.
Injuries are inherent in sport. How do our responses to injuries shape our identity as athletes. Papa Cunny delivers yet again exploring both sides of the argument and also sharing an intense personal experience.
I often find it comical, and occasionally somewhat childish, how I obtain inspiration for these articles. Why did I write about Red Sox nation last year? While in Val one day, someone jokingly said, “Our hockey season is a marathon, but sprint" — harmless comment for most, something a normal person chuckles at then continues on with their normal daily regiment. However, my brain did its normal Tokyo Drift style autopilot, going 95 miles per hour over speed bumps down back roads and alleys that aren’t detectible on your typical GPS system. Buckle up, ladies and gents.
Success isn’t uncommon for Amherst athletics. The college has brought home 10 Div. III national championships over the past 15 years and countless number of NESCAC titles. Just last year, the men’s tennis team won both the conference and national championship, while the men’s basketball team returned to the Final Four for the second straight year. Despite all these accomplishments, many athletes, at some point in their collegiate careers, have grappled with the fact that they are competing in Div. III and not Div. I.
On August 3, the baseball team embarked on a 14-hour journey to the small island country of Japan as part of a cultural exchange. With the help of alumni, coaches and the school administration, Amherst rekindled a partnership with the prestigious Japanese liberal arts school, Doshisha University.
$100,000 for the promotion of a Broadway show in exchange for 86 years of absolute misery and despair. For outsiders, this transaction may mean nothing, but it’s a familiar equation that Boston Red Sox fans know all too well. In 1918, the Red Sox traded away arguably the most prolific hitter in Major League history for $100,000 in cash so the team owner could promote his upcoming show. The Red Sox then proceeded to not win another World Series for 86 years. The curse of the Bambino was real.
In 1989, the Harvard men’s ice hockey team won the national championship. The extraordinary amount of hockey-specific preparation allowed the Ivy League university to stand alone above some of the most storied collegiate hockey programs in the country. Harvard head coach Bill Cleary, former three-sport athlete and U.S. Olympic hockey gold medalist, had a unique perspective regarding how his players should train. He believed that by participating in different sports, the athletes would have a better, more diverse understanding of what it took to be successful on the ice.
