Years of neglect kills Queen’s track team

In 1982, Toronto’s Bedford Park Elementary School had almost 60 kids come out for the cross-country team. In a moment of unintended and spontaneous inclusivity that would rival any of the current tactics pushed by the Toronto District School Board, Bedford’s cross-country team embraced everyone from the smallest grade one student to the burliest grade six. In a school and a time that segregated special needs students, cross-country was the one place where kids felt included — what made them different wasn’t nearly as compelling as what made them the same.

Drawn by a primal desire to run, inspired by a longing to be part of something and, in no small part relegated by a decided absence of any other school-sanctioned team sports, being a member of the cross-country team was like being part of athletic royalty.

Running was, and remains, cheap. Yet counter to this encouraging fact, Queen’s University recently decided to kill its own track program through a calculated act of neglect.

Former Queen’s track and field coach, Melody Torcolacci explained: “Queen’s is not cutting the track team but they might as well [be], as what they are doing with it means it will never be what it once was. With pretty much every sprinter, male and female, graduating this year plus a variety of other factors, the sprint program is likely at an end. Given that RMC (Royal Military College) would not allow us access to the long jump pit this past year, the writing is also on the wall for the jumps program with only two returning jumpers.”

The real program killer may be the loss of access to the track at RMC. Queen’s athletes have nowhere else to train, except outdoors, and that would only be suitable for the distance runners.

It’s hard to fathom what RMC might be using their 200-metre track for beyond regularly scheduled road hockey tournaments in what must be the most expensive shinny game on the planet. What isn’t difficult to figure out is where the next generation of track and distance athletes will choose to attend school – it likely won’t be Queen’s. Intentionally or not, Queen’s has become part of a much larger shift that for many kids begins in kindergarten.

Early years ditch running

Cross-country and track haven’t changed a whole lot in recent memory. Athletes have gotten faster and learned to leap higher but the fundamentals have remained unchanged. The same can’t be said of elementary schools which have experienced a seismic shift in values. Regular physical education has been replaced in many schools by something known as DPA, about 10 ten minutes of daily physical activity. This quite literally means students stand in front of their desk and wave their arms around for 10 minutes. Most teachers find this as uninspiring as their students do. School-endorsed teams have often been the first items to be cut in times of economic turmoil, and coaching within the public school system isn’t seen as part of a teacher’s job description but, rather, a laudable form volunteerism. And in a move that may be indicative of a much larger malaise, many schools have prohibited children from riding their bikes to school, citing safety concerns.

Despite a culture that has become increasing sedentary and physically indifferent, Queen’s University started out with high athletic aspirations. If cross-country and track had died in the public school system and was driven to local clubs, then Queen’s would have to bring it back from the brink as part of the second phase of a grand plan, replacing its dilapidated athletics centre. Queen’s planned to build nothing short of an athletics complex worthy of their nickname, “the Harvard of the North.”

The project was split into two phases. The second phase would include an in door 200-metre track, eliminating the need for the track and field team to rent space at the increasingly restrictive RMC complex. However, in a move that would make an accountant queasy, Queen’s not only went $50 million over budget on the first phase of construction, but now also finds itself in the unenviable position of trying to raise money to cover the cost overrun for a project already underway; it’s hardly an inspiring situation for future donors. Queen’s administrators have belatedly come to the conclusion that, in the future, no new construction will be permitted until all the money has been fundraised.

In this environment, it’s unlikely that the second phase is going to happen. Torcolacci is under no illusions. “Since that decision, other things have become a priority. I doubt we will ever see a championship-quality indoor track at Queen’s as was proposed in the original Queen’s Centre proposal.”

In a sport that has a reputation for not only developing track talent but also providing an open invitation to all athletes from hockey players to rowers, track and field has traditionally offered nothing short of an opportunity for metamorphosis and athletic re-birth. This quality represents to Torcolacci, “the beauty of the sport.” As the Queen’s track program fades, Torcolacci has chosen to withdraw from the program that she helped pioneer, and to many past and present athletes, she also came to embody.

“I am no longer coaching, effective May 1, 2011. With where the program was going it made no sense to have a ‘full-time’ coach and full-time teaching came available, so I jumped at it.”
Some day the second phase of the Queen’s athletic complex may become a reality, but it’s seems unlikely that the track and field program, already relegated from varsity to club status will exist.