Opinions in ParadiseThe thing about reliable sources is that we give them carte blanche when it comes to taking their word for it. As soon as somebody you consider a reliable source gives you a tip, or advises you of
Opinions in ParadiseThe thing about reliable sources is that we give them
carte blanche when it comes to taking their word for it.
As soon as
somebody you consider a reliable source gives you a tip, or advises you of
something, the democratic mindset scoots off the window ledge. Whatever that
person has said or decreed never faces a challenge. Why?
In journalism,
the reliable source can be a writer’s best friend.
I’ve been fortunate
enough to get a hearty helping of good advice since I touched down on Kaua’i,
but there is this one issue.
Football.
A sport heralded on this island
because, in reality, it IS what to do on Friday night. Options are virtually
nonexistent.
What befell me, to get to the point, is that even before I
arrived, the silent nature of the island’s coaches was stressed to me. So I
tiptoed a bit; kind of waited to be told no when I approached for an
interview.
But there’s the thing about sources.
These coaches have
been great, honestly. I’m not just saying that to schmooze for the future. The
truth is, they’ve been at least as open as the high school coaches I covered in
St. Augustine, Fla., just prior to this job.
What does this mean for you,
the reader? Should mean that you get the freshest commentary from Kaua’i’s high
school honchos. And why shouldn’t these guys share? Think about the position
their programs are in.
As football is the focal point of the sporting
island for three months, these guys are at the top. I’ve been told that on
Friday nights, Vindinha stadium loads like arenas when Michael Jordan played.
Last Thursday afternoon, I felt like the coaches understood that point.
Waimea’s Jon Koboyashi and Kaua’i’s Keli’i Morgado poured forth information
like they were using their last collective breath. Kapa’a’s Gordon Muramaru did
so last week.
We talked offensive and defensive schemes, personnel
placement and personal mantras. It was a reaffirming of the reason high school
sports, while the press lounge is not as impressive, towers above professional,
and even college, sports in terms of coverage preference.
It is so pure at
this level. Unless Honolulu’s St. Louis comes after a kid, the dirt involved in
traditional mainland competition at the high school level doesn’t play a role
here. In Florida, the line between college athletics and prep sports blurred
like geriatric vision. There were more halfway-house police raids for displaced
athletes than drug addicts. Most of the members of the Miami Senior High School
football team were from cities at least 100 miles away from Florida’s south
tip.
We’re not going to find too much of that here. So, really, what does a
coach have to hind? The three high schools play each other three times. An
effort to conceal a new playbook might be a reason to withhold information.
That means Waimea should talk all day. The Menehunes haven’t changed their core
schemes in “20 or 30 years” according to Koboyashi.
Kaua’i and Kapa’a might
be justified in making mum the word, but, truly, what’s the point? To get a leg
up in the first meeting? Maybe, but island coaches have been scouting each
other since Aug. 18, when Waimea bettered Punahou 20-13.
Besides, Morgado
put it best: “My coaching philosophy? Good technique will win out every time.
If you have two guys of equal skill level, the guy with better technique is
going to win the battle.”
So, what about a complicated playbook? Better
schemes? Intricate pass routes?
“Really doesn’t matter all that much,”
Morgado said. “You just have to be better at executing. By that third game,
everybody pretty much knows each other.”
Which is why this island’s 2000
season is going to be so much fun. The third time these teams clash, only
wanting the win more will prevail the victor.
And, in the end, surely the
coaches will want to talk to me about it.
