Dumb jock syndrome

Brianne Theisen can explode through the 100m hurdles before many people would have realized that the starter’s pistol had fired. She can leap to heights that for most of us would require a ladder to reach and she can hurl a shot farther than some people can throw a tennis ball. Earning a full scholarship in the heptathlon at the legendary University of Oregon, Brianne Theisen is a long way from her hometown of Humboldt, Sask.

A few Canadian schools attempted to recruit Thiesen but their offers were necessarily hindered by a system not permitted to offer athletes anything remotely comparable to what is available in the United States. As Thiesen looked at all the options, she quickly came realize that staying in Canada was not going to pay the bills. “I know that a lot of Canadian universities do give scholarships that could be combined to cover the full cost of tuition, however, I had trouble finding anything that would cover living expenses as well,” Thiesen said.

It’s all very well for the CIS to pride itself on attracting student athletes who put academics first and athletics second, but the reality of this is that they are only attracting student athletes who can absorb the ever increasing tuition costs and living expenses. It’s the rare athlete who is willing and able to embrace this kind of financial burden and who is willing to accept, in many cases, second-rate facilities. If track is your sport, it’s unlikely that Trent’s 413-metre cement oval is going to represent a big enticement.

Although it hasn’t been explicitly spelled out by Canadian universities, the finances put towards the purchase of treadmills and the fervor in which they are willing to invest in the next generation of fitness centres isn’t met with the same zeal when it applies to funding specialized athletic venues. This combined with their reluctance to pay for full-time coaches and trainers has been instrumental in relegating most varsity programs to the hinterlands of the collegiate sports’ ecosystem.

Scott-Thomas’s proposed track at Guelph isn’t considered the centrepiece of the renovation or even deemed essential by the school, but merely a nice addition completely reliant on external fundraising efforts. In a similar vein, university coaches, although often given a small honorarium – code for “terrible wages” – rely on the success and generosity of alumni booster clubs.

“The football coach [at Queen’s] is paid six figures, because the football booster club raises at least this amount each year for the program,” explained Queen’s cross-country coach Steve Boyd.

Most other university sanctioned sports aren’t able to do the same. In the absence of vigorous alumni participation and widespread indifference from the university at large, most athletic programs in Canada are lucky enough to subsist let alone compete.

As eager as Canadian post secondary institutions have been to financially reward high-academic standing, they have been loathe to share the wealth with high-level athletes. It was only recently that Ontario succumbed to pressure, and began offering athletic scholarships that don’t even cover the cost of tuition. Western Canadian universities are more generous but compared to what Brianne Thiesen was offered by the University of Oregon, it’s insignificant.

When Theisen visited Oregon she fell in love. Beyond a full ride that would cover tuition and living expenses, Theisen would have the opportunity to push the boundaries of her calling. “They have an amazing track with stands that hold almost 8,000 people and they come close to filling the stands at every meet,” Theisen said.

And, there’s more. A state-of-the-art $20 million academic building, strictly for student athletes, complete with tutors, study rooms, labs, free printing, big screen TVs, couches, fireplaces, and a café. In addition to a physiotherapy centre, the University of Oregon has three underwater treadmills, ice tubs/cold tubs. There’s also a dentist’s office, optometrist, pharmacy, nutrition bar, taping tables – athletes rarely have to leave campus.

“I was in absolute shock and couldn’t believe my eyes,” she said.

Throw in the fact that the average Canadian student will graduate with an average of over $19,000 in student debt and it’s not surprising that so many Canadian athletes have chosen to seek their athletic fortunes south of the border.

Canada has the resources to support young athletes – especially when you consider the strength of the Canadian economy compared to the U.S., and the amount of money the government allots for health care – but lacks the will.

Although Americans enthusiastically support college sports, the NCAA system has not been without its problems either. Any time money and popularity collide there are bound to be instances of corruption but these are exceptions and not the rule. Canadian reluctance to push athletic scholarships seems to be based in the misplaced fear that if athletes are aggressively supported, academics inevitably falter, and standards fall. Not only is this not true, as high-level athletes are often strong students, but it’s a betrayal of an idea of education that too many Canadians have chosen to forget.

Curiously, the Ancient Greeks, the prime movers and architects of the university ideal, were not nearly as narrow-minded as Canadian institutions of higher learning. The value of an education in Ancient Greece had nothing to do with securing a job immediately following graduation. Young people pursued education in order to become effective citizens. Students were taught to read and write but they were also trained as athletes. Academics didn’t come first but were considered equal to athletic and artistic aspirations. Unlike just about every school in the nation, sport was not considered frivolous or extra, and certainly the engagement in physical activity would not have been deemed beneath the dignity of prospective citizens but rather, an essential part of it.

Thiesen has no regrets and her experience in track and studying business at one of the top 25 business schools in America has made her both a better athlete and a better student.

“I am very lucky and grateful for my entire experience here and I’ve loved every minute of it. I think the advantages of being a part of the American system are that people take sports so much more seriously here. [Sports] are a big deal and a huge part of the communities and there’s a tremendous amount of support for all the athletes. It almost feels as if you are part of a family.”

As Canadian citizens become increasingly sedentary the connection between institutional indifference to university athletic programs and the sharp decline of our collective health and well-being is difficult to ignore. What good is the Western canon if graduates can’t run a lap of the track without stopping to walk? Putting Canadian University athletics on equal footing with its academic wings won’t immediately make the average Canadian healthier, but the relegation of university teams to the periphery sends a distinct message to the next generation: sport doesn’t matter.