At least there aren't wrestlers running and puffing on the stairs, and there isn't an aerobics class blaring in one of the small gyms, and there aren't too many faculty here power-walking, dodging stray passes. And the cheerleaders have usually finished their practice at the end of the west court. And the baseball batting cage isn't up, with its constant hammering of balls drowning out what you want to teach your players. As I look out on our renovated Auditorium, with basketball courts that feel like a cloud under foot, and seating that makes a crowd of 4,000 feel like an intimate gathering, I marvel at how it's endured, built as is was for another era. People in the athletic business need to be careful not to sound whiny when talking about what new facilities we think we need.
Coaches are a notoriously never-satisfied lot.
And athletes can easily sound like spoiled excuse-makers when they start talking about inconvenient practice times being detrimental to their performance. In the big scheme of things, a new sports building might not rank high on a national priority list of things we need to do to solve our nation's ills. But the rationale for the new fitness center goes beyond letting athletes come in out of the cold, or letting coaches get home for supper with their families. The proposed fitness center will be an expression of our commitment to educating whole people, people anxious to build habits for healthy living, people who long for the simple joy of athletic expression as a vital interlude in their hectic academic lives.