This may come as news to some of you, but about a week and a half ago, the University of Delaware announced that it would be doing away with its mens' cross country and track teams, completing a trio of cuts that it was hoping to execute three years ago when only indoor track was lost. The announcement comes in a year in which these teams are celebrating their 100th anniversary.
While not exactly surprised by the news, I wasn't quite sure at first what to make of the situation or where I should direct my energies. My options for response included righteous indignation among friends, impassioned outrage channeled toward UD's athletic director, or posting about the situation on this blog. While not mutually-exclusive from the first two choices, I figured a morose online remembrance of my time at UD would be the most fitting option for me.
I should mention here that if you're interested in reading more about actual
facts pertaining to the loss of UD's programs, you can find information at the links below. Most of my thoughts will be in the form of incoherent type-faced tears.
Letsrun threadSI's Jeff Pearlman's ColumnLexi Ambrogi's News Journal Column Pearlman's Interview on Week of Run PodcastNBC Video with Athlete InterviewsI joined the UD team after graduating from Cornell in '05. The plan was essentially to wrap up organic chemistry at Delaware in the summer after Cornell, take the MCAT, apply to medical school, and, in the process, get a two-year master's degree in exercise science. As far as the running eligibility was concerned, I had a season of cross country and a season of outdoor track to burn at Delaware. Both of these were granted to me back in my freshman year, the latter of which coming as a result of a broken left foot.
It's no secret that the University of Delaware isn't an NCAA powerhouse when it comes to track and field. So why did I choose Delaware and not somewhere where I could take my running to the "next level" after slow but steady progress at Cornell? The short answer is that, at the time, my step mom had just passed away, and I was eager to spend a few years with my dad and sisters. I suppose in hindsight, there were a few other options in the area, but none of them presented the appeal of living just a couple of miles away from home. In fact, for Year Two of the UD experience, I bunked back up in my dad's house -- one of the most effective cost-saving measures of my life -- something you won't see on Suze Orman.
Could the UD team have been better? Sure, I guess so. But, that's really not the point I'm trying to make, and I'm certainly not saying that any lack of success warrants cutting a program in favor of keeping a few extra football players around. The thing is, from a program's perspective it's hard (
really hard, in fact) to excel when you're caught up in an environment that is so blatantly apathetic about your existence. And while Cornell has made strides in the past few decades to become fully alumni-endowed (a smart move considering the trend we've seen in the NCAA), UD's track alumni, myself included, are notably absent when it comes to ponying up cash for UD runners.
Here again, though, the UD administration deserves a good chunk of the blame. Whereas Cornell athletes from all sports spend part of their winter break soliciting donations from alumni -- an initiative spear-headed by the athletics department at large -- no such program exists at Delaware, and any donations that do come in are directed to a general slush fund that eventually pays for another mediocre defensive lineman.
Back to the narcissistic element of my diatribe...
Going to Delaware was partially contingent on getting the coach on board. I certainly didn't expect it, but I considered how much an athletic scholarship would help me defray the costs of tuition. I wasn't going to have research assistantship funding for my first year of the program, and even if I was getting an in-state rate with a few credits comped courtesy of a faculty dad, the thought of more pre-med school debt didn't sound so great.
I remember my first meeting with Jim Fischer very well. If you've ever spoken with the guy, Fischer is the type of man that leaves you feeling like you should be nicer to everyone. (In my case, this is probably true.) He is genuine, and he puts a lot into what he does without adding Jerry-Smith-style-workout-type stress to his athlete's lives. Sitting behind his desk during an impromptu office call, Fischer told me that he would be thrilled to have me on the roster. It didn't come up in the conversation, but a few weeks later I learned that he'd secured some money to help me get through the year.
Mike DiGennaro, one of my main training partners at Delaware who had graduated a few years earlier and was hoping to qualify for the steeplechase Trials for a second time, put it best when he said that Jim Fischer is an excellent coach for the self-motivated athlete. I think this assessment was pretty spot-on. For example, while I was there, PJ Meany did great things in cross country, but he was more of a lone wolf than most guys on the team. Fischer would always have insight about how you could be doing more (or, more accurately,
better), but you had to ask for it and demonstrate a desire to see it through. If you did those things, you would get faster. If not, you would most likely be mediocre.
Despite the large in-state draw (Delaware high school running is a fairly small affair), the team has improved a good amount since I was there. I remember checking results from some meet last spring and seeing a handful of guys under 15 minutes for the 5,000. Maybe this information doesn't send the more elite MaT followers to the floor with shock, but you have to agree that any program that can do that is solid at a minimum. This progress is just another sad reason to see the program halted in such a short-sighted fashion.
My Delaware years were easily my best years of running. In cross country, I was remotely competitive, with a few sub-26 minute performances, and a VCP PR of 26:03. On the track, I didn't so much improve in the 800 or 1500 but I did run a couple 2:25 1000's and a mile PR of 4:08. By year two -- my better of the two -- I was running with Central Park, mostly coming up with my own workouts, and taking Brad Dodson along for the ride with me. Fischer consistently gave input and would show up to take splits whenever he could, whether it be 6am on Thursday or a Sunday afternoon. I wasn't even on the team at this point, and he was still supportive to no end.
I want to be clear at this point that track never got respect at Delaware. The indoor team would frequently get kicked out of the field house so that the football team could use it. This is downright bullshit, especially since Delaware football is a joke. Football loses money annually and competes against national powerhouses like Colgate, West Chester, and Maine. It's essentially nothing more than an excuse for students to tail gate.
On the football front, the most harrowing consideration is that no where is safe. Here in Syracuse, the mediocre SU football team recently took over Manley field house, converting a decent, if not sort of slow, six-lane 200 meter track into a football practice facility with a crazy two-lane 165 meter polygon thrown in for jogger appeasement. If a nationally-ranked Syracuse program is challenged by our national gridiron obsession, Delaware never had a chance.
I've gotten this far without mentioning Title IX, which is probably appropriate since it doesn't deserve a place in this discussion. While pegged as the reason for eradicating UD track and XC, it's not, so don't believe it for a second.
On the impassioned outrage front, please contact UD AD Bernard Muir to voice your displeasure with his decision. bmm@udel.edu
