Was Picking the Smartest Man in the NFL a Dumb Idea?

"Like a smart jock, right?...Now ain't that an oxymoron?"
--from the movie Renaissance Man

"Can't read defenses? He's a Rhodes Scholar. He can read 'em in Latin."
--from the HBO show Arliss

With the 207th pick in the 2010 draft, the Tennessee Titans picked Myron Rolle out of Florida State, a Rhodes Scholar & future MD. More significantly for the Titans, he’s a safety and should provide depth to their underachieving secondary.

A lot of speculation as to whether his scholarly interests will detract from his football responsibilities. I know this is where I’m supposed to defend him for being a renaissance man and a true student athlete. And no doubt he deserves praise from me and everyone else who’s heaped him w/ adoration. But any wariness an NFL team had of him concerning his non-football goals are actually legitimate.

When a teach drafts a player, they are making an investment. And if they have reason to believe that player won’t develop for some reason (injury prone, lack of talent, other interests, etc), then that team should be cautious. Granted, being afraid a player will retire early or be distracted because of an interest in the medical profession, is definitely different from most NFL red flags (and is much better than some recent former Titans players’ off the field activities), but it must be taken serious.

For example, if you’re hiring someone for a job, and that person is overqualified, then you would be right to hesitate because the person may be gone soon. Now, Rolle isn’t quite overqualified in the usual sense, but he definitely has qualities that make him less likely to drape his life in football, which is really what a player needs to do in order to succeed in the NFL, especially someone with the talent of a 6th round draft pick.

This is not to say I was upset the Titans drafted him. In fact, I remember sitting in front of my tv pumping my fist profusely when his name scrolled across the screen. But I do side with NFL execs whose jobs lie with not only whom they pick but whom they do not pick. And the more players you pick who don’t work out, the greater your chance of being out of a job.

All this said, does anyone have Myron Rolle’s contact info? I’d like for him to guest lecture one of my sports & lit classes.

The New College Dating Culture

"Yes, everything on earth, the race of man and beast, / Fish of the sea, and flocks, and gaily painted birds, / Rush into passionate flame." --Virgil

Here's an interesting New York Times article on the current dating culture at many 4 year colleges.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/07/fashion/07campus.html?pagewanted=1&em

A Teacher's Field Trip

“I wouldn’t let Pete Rose use my bathroom or anything, but I think he should be in the Hall of Fame.”
--Sarah Bunting, Baseball & Lit Conference


This week’s classes were cut short by a Friday conference on Baseball and Literature. Since I wrote my Master’s thesis on several baseball novels where I examined the ways in which the baseball star is presented as an archetypal hero mirroring ancient champions like Achilles and King Arthur, I feel it’d be irresponsible and lazy of me not to present at this conference. Also, the conference is at one of the schools I teach at. And my thesis directors are the organizers. I don’t mean to sound like my participation is forced. It isn’t. It’s just implicit that I will produce something to present, an act I am very proud to perform.

Ah, the academic conference. A reunion of sorts where like-minded men and women gather to discuss, sometimes debate matters that deal specifically with their fields of interest. Conferences are a good excuse to travel and socialize. The culture of the conference often mirrors the content, which in turn, mirrors the people drawn to the particular content. For example, a Virginia Wolf conference is (from secondhand accounts, not firsthand experience) a bit stuffy and slightly snobbish. Questions after a presentation resemble declarations of what the presenter got wrong. Consequently, a pop culture conference is a little more convivial. Questions are, in fact questions, and post-presentation discussions are rarely intended to be an informal game of Trivial Pursuit.

I loved Mrs. Dalloway, by the way.

So as it has been for the past 3 years I’ve been involved with it, the conference went well. The keynote speaker was Dr. Harriet Hamilton, a professor at Alabama A & M whose father played in the Negro Leagues. The main speaker was “Mudcat” Grant, a former 20 game winner for the Cleveland Indians who roomed with important figures like Larry Doby and Curt Flood. Grant spoke about his experiences playing during segregation and about learning how to pitch.

My paper was not as interesting. That said, it was on the 20th century shift from the boxer to the baseball player as the preeminent American sports hero worked well. Only about a page of it came from my thesis. The rest was new material where I discussed Harry Stein’s Hoopla, which I mentioned only briefly in my thesis’ conclusion.

Conferences are the key to establishing and maintaining contacts. They also allow us to stay current on the latest ideas in our field. This Friday, I was able to hear some new takes on baseball’s usage in academia. And I was informed of a position opening at a school in Alabama (and encouraged to apply).

What College Professors Do on Spring Break

“I remember my father saying that early in his teaching career he would ask himself at the beginning of each term, ‘Have I read enough to be a good teacher?’ And he would have to answer, ‘No, not yet.’”
--Kim Stafford, The Muses Among Us

The week of spring break, for the professor, is punctuated with very little of the merriment that their students associate with it. We still enjoy the time away from classes and students and, if we’re lucky, the campus. But it’s still filled with work; the luxury is that you get to pick the time and place to do it. This is more of a treat than it sounds.

I spent several Sbux hours grading midterms...many, many midterms. The freedom to work several straight hours on so single minded a task is not often afforded during the active parts of the semester. Strangely, I enjoyed the freedom I dedicated towards my slavish workload. I still have about 15 lit papers to grade, though.

But I didn’t just work. I visited an art gallery. I went to a bar/club (Don’t ask. Even I’m not sure why I went). I read Kim Stafford’s excellent letter/poem/essay/book on writing and creativity, "The Muses Among Us." I spent a day at the hospital supporting my father while he received a pacemaker. I wrote in my notebook. I accidentally ran over a kitten. I went to dinner w/ friends. I watched Bill Maher’s entertaining and thought provoking (yet rhetorically flawed) documentary "Religulous." I basked in one of my childhood pastimes by watching my favorite 90s action star’s latest movie: "JCVD." I participated in some beer brewing at a friend’s cookout. I ran. I watched a sextuple overtime college basketball game until 12:30 am w/ my dad. I recommended several books. I loaned a book. I went book shopping. I borrowed a book. And I answered emails from students who spent more of their Spring Break in the library than on the beach.

College Folk Hero...Well Sort Of

“[S]he seemed to follow the rules and customs of some exotic, faraway nation where the citizens drilled the ground for oil paint and picked pastels from the branches of stunted trees. Without copying anyone else, she had invented her own curious personality, which I envied even more than her artistic ability.”
--David Sedaris, from “Twelve Moments in the Life of the Artist”

Last week Adrian, one of my freshmen writing students told me that, to his friends I’m like some sort of folk hero. Apparently, he is roommates with another one of my students from another writing class, and they sometimes sit around and tell Professor Bush stories. Adrian told me how his girlfriend, his other roommate, and the people in his band aren’t sure if I really exist.

Another writing student in a 3rd class, told me something similar. She said that I reminded her of her boyfriend and that when she tells him stories about me he says, “that’s something I would say! I wanna meet this guy!” When she told me that, I commented that if I started a fan club, he’d be my choice for president. She just shook her head and said, “No. You two must never be allowed to meet…Although, he probably would take you up on the offer.”

The funny thing about these comments is that I want to be a campus character. One of the attractive aspects of being a college professor is that you can develop a reputation (and later a legend) based on outrageous things you’ve said and funny things you’ve done.

To a certain degree, isn’t that what all of us want, to be recognized and appreciated by the community of which we’re a part? Whether it’s the Hollywood community that the whole world sees or part of an obscure Guinea tribe known only be specialists of that region, don’t we all want an identity that we can point to and take pride in?

But I have to admit: something Adrian said validated his “folk hero” comment. Before leaving the empty classroom, he turned around and said, “and besides all the memorable moments, you’re also a great teacher. That’s what makes it so fun.”

Parking Tickets & All That Jazz: The First Week of Classes

"I cannot but wish I were better qualified." --John Adams to Abigail Adams after hearing that he was elected President

Teaching is like jazz: if you can't improvise, you're in the wrong line of work. I've just completed my first week of classes of my 7th semester of teaching (if you include my TA work). And no matter how much I prepare, no matter how much experience I have, classes always have a way of ambushing and tying me down with dozens of unaccounted for logistical issues.

For example, on the first day of classes I arrived on campus and cannot find a parking spot. I drove around for an hour trying to find somewhere to put my car while I discussed 6 pages of syllabi to students old enough to be able to read it for themselves. Since this was my first semester since being hired as an adjunct that I did not have an 8:00 class, I'd forgotten how hectic campus became early in the semester during mid-morning.

Impatient and a little nervous about being late, I made my own parking spot behind the Industrial Studies building. I knew I'd get a ticket b/c I saw a car parked earlier that morning in the same spot with a ticket in its windshield. So while I lifting the handle on the parking brake, I mentally subtracted $10 from my checking account...

...Between the 6 classes at my 2 colleges, this group of students promises to be my best so far. Of course, college is like NFL football: everyone's good up until week 3. So we'll see if this lasts, but based on my previous experiences, my students seem much more receptive and motivated as a whole than in previous years.

That said, Eng 1020, research and argumentative writing, still provides a tincture of confusion for me. I can never find a way to comfortably approach that class. I always stumble through it like a parent trying to walk through a toy-cluttered living room in the middle of the night. This past spring semester was better, but even then, the first 2 essays I had them write on (advertisements & film) seemed more like 1010 work. So I'm borrowing assignments from my friend Bob who seems to specialize in 1020 classes. Hopefully, by copying him, I can find a way to file away some of the rough spots.

Yet by borrowing from him, I'm running into a few slight inconveniences that I didn't really anticipate. How do I tailor his writing assignment to my day-to-day assignments? And how many trees must I personally kill in order to print and run off the essays he has his students read and write about? Though I have other classes and other small problems, my two 1020 courses at my community college are what make me occasionally question my competence as a professor. But I think as long as I stay flexible--like a saxophonist changing his riff to suit the mood of the crowd--I should be okay.

...So after my last class on Monday, I walked out to my car and the first thing I did was think about what I could do with an extra $10 in my bank account. No ticket was on the car. Perhaps this semester will be more fun than I thought.