The same week it hosted what it calls the biggest high school state track meet in the U.S., Wichita State University also accomodated the 5A and 6A state baseball and softball championships. Roaring crowds, packed hotels and restaurants likely created an economic boon for Wichita businesses from May 27-30.
Next year, let’s space it out. Instead of cramming thousands of athletes, families and fans into four days, let’s give it a week. Or different campuses. Or at least build in a cool-down period. I don’t want to tear down a city, officials or the Kansas State High School Athletes Association, but the last weekend of May in Wichita is a good reminder that just because you can do something, it doesn’t mean you should.
That was no more apparent than when I first pulled into the Wichita State University parking lot. Rescheduled baseball and softball games after rainouts resulted in a filled parking lot. The other parking lot was cut in half by reserved parking for teams, officials and volunteers. Everyone else circled the lot like sharks looking for one of the coveted, and unusually narrow, spots.
It was May, so it was hot. Time to hydrate. The water on the field, in high demand thanks to artificial turf making the place even hotter, was reserved for athletes and volunteers. Everyone else paid $6 per bottle of water or drank lukewarm drinking fountain water that tasted like a pencil. The stands of the newly christened Crossroads Stadium had no shade. Instead of allowing fans to cool off in the adjoining arena, staff shooed ticket-paying visitors out the door.
While heading to an event, I saw an old man collapse in a concession line. I’m not a medical expert, but when I hear someone screaming for a bottle of water, then pouring it on the old man’s head, I’m assuming he got overheated. Just to speculate a bit further, did anyone tell him there was a change of policy on day two and he could come inside?
Communication seemed an issue. Some events were hours behind; some ran ahead of schedule. Instead of an announcement over a P.A. system as thunderstorms rolled in, visitors had to follow their social media while they sat in their cars because, again, they would not let fans shelter in the arena. At every point when KSHSAA could have offered mercy, they seemed to use it as a revenue-generating opportunity.
I’ve long ago dismissed most sports associations as being about more than money. The “We’re just in it for the kids” line feels foolish by now.
I’m jaded because I’ve seen it done better in other states. Kansas, along with others, has slowly devolved into a soulless cash-grab monster. Buy this shirt, purchase this photo, $8 for the worst pretzel, and air conditioning is not free, so kindly head outside.
I don’t know what the solution is, but getting the money out of high school athletics is likely a good start. Publicly funded sports are not supposed to be an industry. Ninety percent of the athletes playing high school sports will not play in college. This is all supposed to be fun, remember?
Scholastic sports are some of the only times athletes compete in front of fans, where local heroes are born and epic games remembered.
But the way most of the postseason is structured, fans are the last people factored into the equation. Iola’s track and field regional started at noon on a Friday. Iola’s regional baseball tournament played Thursday at 2 p.m. in Girard. Not exactly hours most working parents can swing.
Who is this for anymore?
