The Victors
(No. 19) Michigan 42-35 Indiana
5-0, Big Ten 1-0

I didn't see last Saturday's game against the wily Hoosiers; so, though I have read a good deal about it via ye olde internet, the second-hand character of all my knowledge would make my first-hand opining a vice. Having not seen the game I cannot judge if it really was as much of a close-run shootout as the score would indicate. After all the valiant Wolverines have put me through in the years since The Horror (the loss to Appalachian State under Lloyd Carr, followed by the two consecutive losing seasons under Rich Rodriguez), my first reaction upon learning the outcome was to breath a sigh of relief at the victory. A loss would have saddened me, but not necessarily surprised me. It's not that I don't have any faith in the valiant Wolverines, it's that the defense is about as resistant to tearing as tissue paper; it's that Shoelace & the rightly vaunted offense were held scoreless for vast swaths of the game against the vile Fighting Irish. I have faith in the valiant Wolverines, but my faith is not blind; it knows them to be all too fallible.

This Saturday, the (No. 18) valiant Wolverines of the University of Michigan host the (No. 17) dastardly Spartans of the Michigan Agricultural College (or whatever they're calling themselves this week). This is more than just a football game, this is a manifestation of the war for the soul of the State of Michigan between the light of knowledge (us) & the darkness of ignorance (them). This is a war that divides families & sunders (temporarily) friendships. All this week, I've donned Michigan paraphernalia to proclaim my side in the struggle. There is no neutral ground in this, not for a Michigander.

Go Blue!

I learned the final score via a voicemail left by my father. He is in the habit of ringing my mobile when he's traveling; unlike so many of his other habits, I find this endearing instead of annoying. He left me two voice messages on Saturday, the first describing the many new attractions added to the National Museum of the United States Air Force at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base since his last visit & the second giving me the round-up of the day's Big Ten action. Both of these were most sincerely appreciated. The sunshine of southern California seemed a world away from the windswept gridirons of the Midwest, & yet football Saturdays are so rare & precious that every ounce of enjoyment must be wrung out of them, even by proxy. The Air Force Museum at Wright-Pat is one of my favorite places on Earth, one of the last places where I can still recall & enjoy my childhood idolization of my father. I like Wright-Pat even better than the National Air & Space Museum of the Smithsonian, & I will take my children to Dayton to look at the aeroplanes & marvel at Man's ingenuity.

I apologize for my failure to document properly last spring's speech & debate activities. I shall make a good faith effort to catch you up, but priority must be placed on not falling any further behind; to wit, the weekend just past:

Master Debating
The style of debate in which my teammates & I compete is known by several names, among them Oxford-style, Worlds-style, and British Parliamentary-style (B.P.). This last name, though most common, is the most unsatisfactory, as the previous format in which I competed, N.P.D.A., was nicknamed "Parli," as it too took its cues from the Westminster Parliament. The preferred name, then, is "Worlds," in part because there is an actual world championship contested between teams from several nation-states. I cannot specify any of them beyond the United States, the United Kingdom, and the stepchild of those two parents, the Dominion of Canada, & so I would not guess as to the presence of Worlds in the Commonwealth beyond the six nations of the Anglosphere.

A round in Worlds is contested between four teams of two members, named as 1st Proposition (or Prop), 2nd Proposition, 1st Opposition (or Opp), & 2nd Opposition. (I prefer the names 1st & 2nd Government [Gov] to 1st & 2nd Prop because of the similarity of Prop to Opp & the resultant opportunities for confusion, but I defer to the names used at last weekend's tournament.) The two members of 1st Prop are the Prime Minister (P.M.) & the Deputy Prime Minister (D.P.M.), 1st Opp: the Leader of the Opposition (L.O.) & the Deputy Leader of the Opposition (D.L.O.), 2nd Prop: the Member of Government (M.G.) & Government Whip (G.W.), & 2nd Opp: the Member of Opposition (M.O.) & Opposition Whip (O.W.). Each delivers a speech "not to exceed seven minutes," with significantly shorter speeches being very much frowned upon. The "top-half" speakers (1st Prop & Opp) alternate with each other, followed by the "bottom-half" speakers (2nd Prop & Opp), so that the speaking order is thus:

P.M. (1st Prop)
L.O. (1st Opp)
D.P.M. (1st Prop)
D.L.O. (1st Opp)
M.G. (2nd Prop)
M.O. (2nd Opp)
G.W. (2nd Prop)
O.W. (2nd Opp)

Even though the two Proposition teams are on the same side of the debate, as are the two Opposition teams, they are also in competition, as the four teams are ranked in descending order: 1, 2, 3, & 4. It is entirely possible for the 2nd Prop to win the round with the 1 while the 1st Prop slinks away in shame with the 4. It is also more important in competition to win the round than to "win" the debate. The purpose of a Worlds round (as distinct from the pedagogical purpose of Worlds overall) is not to solve the world's problems by arguing over the best policies, but to fulfill best & most properly your assigned role. Rounds are judged on three criteria: matter, manner, & role fulfillment, though the maddening aspect of the whole process is that each judge seems to have his own definition of those terms & his own calculus for how each is weighed. Matter is what you say: the quality of your arguments & analyses. In Worlds, you can argue that Marxism is the best economic system, but you've got to back is up with a more sophisticated analysis than "capitalism is bad." Manner is how you say what you say: confidence is the key to public speaking, and smooth, persuasive, engaging oratory is rewarded. Not to toot boast, but at the end of almost every round, when the two sides "cross the aisle" to shake hands before adjudication begins, I am almost invariably complimented on my oratory. Role fulfillment: how well you conduct your specific function within the round, & whether you "move the debate forward." A great emphasis is placed on the longevity of arguments; if the points brought up by 1st Prop are still being wrangled over by the Whips, there is a good chance 1st Prop will get the 1. Each of the four positions has its own requirements, as do both roles within each position; the P.M. has a very different job than the M.O., and a different speaker will be better at one role than another, based on that individual's skill-set. Points of information, questions asked during a member of the other side's speech, are a way to remain engaged in the debate (sometimes important to the judges' final scores) when it isn't your turn to speak.

Last winter & spring, in two weekends of Parli competition & one weekend of Worlds, I was partnered with The Most Dangerous Game, who is solely responsible for my recruitment onto the team. (Wayback Machine.) Her preference was for me to take the rhetorical lead—in Worlds almost invariably acting as P.M., L.O., or either Whip—though she very much liked to believe that she was directing events from behind the scenes. For the fall, now that we'd gotten our feet wet in Worlds, The M.A.P. decided that he'd flex his muscle as coach & faculty adviser & pair me with team captain Too Sly as a definitive "A" team. The Most Dangerous Game resented this for two reasons: {a} she'd brought my masterful speaking ability onto the team in the first place & {b} over the summer she'd tried & failed to supplant Too Sly as team captain. The Game's least charming quality is her almost psychotic need to be the leader of any organization of which she is a part. She doesn't necessarily want the burden of command, she just wants everyone to tell her she's in charge & do her bidding. However, Too Sly is clearly the driving force of the team, his commitment going above & beyond that of The M.A.P., for whom coaching the debate team is part & parcel of his teaching contract. Too Sly remains team captain, however unofficial that designation may be. The Most Dangerous Game was left without a partner for the first six rounds because at 2:30 P.M. on Thursday, at the very time we were meant to be piling into the van to motor down to Metro Airport, her partner—the guy on the team nobody liked—announced that he wasn't coming. (The story behind this is a pathetic saga all its own, into which we shan't now delve.) The novice pairing of Love/Hate & The Regina soldiered on through six fruitless rounds, at which point The Most Dangerous Game paired with The Regina for Round 7 & Love/Hate for Round 8.

Too Sly & I's result were as follows: Friday: Round 1: 4, Rd. 2: 2, Rd. 3: 1 (!); & Saturday: Rd. 4: 4, Rd. 5: 3, Rd. 6: 2, Rd. 7: 1 (!), Rd. 8: 3. We screwed up mightily only once, in Round 1, where we committed a startlingly elementary error as 1st Prop. There are mitigating factors, but at the end of the day we cannot & do not deny that we fumbled. Our triumph in Round 3 was especially thrilling because we both, but your humble narrator principally, were praised by one of the most experienced & influential Worlds coaches in the country. (The coaches adjudicate the rounds in teams of two or three; many teams have assistant coaches.) It is a poor workman who blames his tools, but the flip side of that coin is that every athlete knows that it's hard to win when you're playing against both the other team & the zebras. Too Sly & I didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell in Rounds 4 & 5, in which we faced the same judge twice. He loathed us openly & undeniably—if not us people than our debating style & every word that came out of our mouths. I'm honestly surprised that he gave us the 3 in Round 5 instead of a second consecutive 4. Through the eight rounds we twice occupied every position: 1st Prop, 1st Opp, 2nd Prop, & 2nd Opp. The most gratifying round of all was Round 7, our second crack at 1st Prop; we'd learned the painful lessons of our Round 1 failure & almost faultlessly executed our roles as 1st Prop. It is a point of particular pride that I was P.M. in our Rd. 7 victory.

The tournament was reseeded after every round; so, our 1 in Rd. 3 partially contributed to the Rd. 4 debacle, as the 2 in Rd. 2 & then the Rd. 3 1 lead to us being reseeded against superior competition. For all that, though, we're beginning to see what judges are looking for, figuring out how to win, & both Too Sly & I maintain, without as much impartiality as we are able to muster, that we deserved the 3 in Rd. 4, not the 4. Our steady improvement throughout Saturday (4, 3, 2, 1) lead to our Round 8 seeding in "the scary round." All three of the teams we faced were in contention to "break," to be among the eight teams that advanced to Sunday's semifinals & thence to the finals. Too Sly was completely psyched out as we entered the room; I was more composed only because I'd resigned myself to a sure & certain 4. Acting as 2nd Prop, we emerged from the round with the 3. We were aided by the meltdown of 1st Opp; the D.L.O.'s seven minutes were rambling & incoherent, & throughout the L.O. sat with her head in her hands. Nevertheless, we acquitted ourselves quite well, and in explaining the adjudication (as happens at the end of every round) the judge acting as chairman explained that we'd been close to the 2, remarkably close considering how outclassed we'd presumed we'd be.

At the conclusion of the U. of M.-Flint Speech & Debate Team's first Worlds tournament, the U.S. Nationals last spring in Denver, all we had going for us was enthusiasm: we'd universally liked Worlds & were eager for more. Coming away from Claremont, we're starting to know what we're doing, almost. (Hee hee, clearly tottering on the edge of hubris.) Our next competition is in less than a fortnight at the University of Toronto's Hart House (Toronto, Ontario, Canada). There is room in the competition for only two of our possible three teams; my place alongside Too Sly seems assured, but I cannot say what duo of The Most Dangerous Game, Love/Hate, The Regina, and our newest member, Matthew (some guy who has swiftly become Love/Hate's boyflesh, it is not yet known if he'll need a Secret Base code name), will be also competing. (Further readinglink.)

Also of note, the journey to Toronto will be the first time I've crossed the sovereign borders of the United States of America since before 9/11.