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Title
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An Essay on Sportsmanship
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Date
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February 1941
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volume
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6
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7
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9
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en
AN ESSAY ON SPORTSMANSHIP
My dictionary does not contain an adequate definition of sportsmanship, a definition of what the average person infers when he refers to any act as one of "good sportsmanship" or of "poor sportsmanship." Webster defines sportsmanship as "the practice of field sports," whatever that means. No, to the average individual, sportsmanship refers to type of conduct while participating in sport. In our discussion of sportsmanship we shall confine ourselves to a discussion of type of conduct while participating in fencing.
Sportsmanship is a ticklish subject with many ramifications. It can be carried to a nicety in one extreme and appear mawkishly ostentatious or it can be so completely lacking that you would not be surprised to see such a representative sneak pennies from a blindman's cup. Obviously, good sportsmanship lies somewhere between these extremes.
One's conduct is a revelation of one's character or upbringing. Any competitor by his actions is exposing his character to everyone who sees him in action. When you are fencing for fun in the Salle you may be revealing your character only to one opponent. When you are in competition you are giving yourself away to many opponents, officials and spectators at the same time. Theoretically, therefore, your conduct in competition should be exemplary. All competitors should be Alphonses and Gastons, bowing and scraping and doing more apologizing than fencing. That would be horrible.
To me the good sport on the fencing strip is the man who fences as well as he can, who keeps his mouth shut at all times, calling no touches for his opponent and claiming no touches for himself. The beauty of this definition is that it could be followed very easily by every fencer and would be, as a ruling, most easily enforceable by the Director. The strict compliance to this simple conduct would do much to clarify many of the competitive problems encountered today in many of our fencing competitions.
On the other hand the good sport on the fencing strip in the Salle d'Armes is again the man who fences as well as he can but who calls every touch that his opponent makes against him and gives more than liberal acknowledgment to his opponent's right of way. He makes no claims for his own touches, leaving that entirely to the sportsmanship of his opponent. Salle fencing, therefore, finds more slaps and passes called as touches than would be allowed in competition since no good sportsman stops to weigh the type of point made against him. If he feels something arrive upon his jacket he calls "touch" and it is up to his opponent to qualify that, if such is necessary.
Here you have two entirely different viewpoints on the same subject of sportsmanship. Both are right and both fit into the purpose for which they are intended.
This entire article came about as a result of Mr. Strobel's article on the opposite page. In it he states, "the high tension of everlasting competition works on the participants to such an extent that the word sportsmanship is just something heard of rather than practiced. No amount of directors and judges with all the knowledge and ability in the world could satisfy these keyed-up prize seekers." He leaves the impression that competitive amateurs are terrible sports and that the offense is theirs alone. I cannot agree with this and yet I do agree that his statements will be accepted by many as essentially correct. I believe that the sportsmanship of competitive amateurs deserves some explanation.
In the first place, competition calls upon the fencer to operate at his greatest efficiency. Everything that he has learned is called upon and his attention must be concentrated upon the sole purpose of point-making. He must simplify his fencing for the purpose at hand. All flourishes must be discarded. He directs himself at his opponent's defense and becomes more numerically-minded than classically-minded. He and his opponent usually have a good time (that is the fascination of competitive fencing; the all-out matching of wits and skill). These competitors usually know what they are doing, what happens and which of them was correct. They have, however, a group of officials superimposed upon them to interpret their actions and award their endeavors. In this, lies the major source of our trouble.
Naturally, an official to be good has to know at least as much about fencing as the competitors over whom he officiates. As you progress upward in the fencing classifications from prep, novice, junior, intermediate to senior competitions it naturally becomes harder to find officials who are the equals of the competitors in fencing experience. Pity the Seniors, therefore, who have the fewest number of officials adequately experienced to interpret their actions and their tempo. Furthermore, when the Seniors are in competition the good directors among their own numbers are frequently fencing also and they are thus deprived of the services of many of those few men who can adequately officiate for them. They end up by being judged and directed by a second line of officials who blunder along as best they can only to find themselves in the midst of fireworks.
It is my contention that evidences of poor sportsmanship in competition well mostly from faults in the officiating. This is proved time and time again by few evidences of objectionable behavior on the part of the fencers in the lower classification competitions. These competitions are generally served by officials who are top-notch and whose decisions therefore do not annoy the competitors.
Would you consider an artist a poor sportsman if he lost his temper at someone spilling a bottle of ink on his new drawing? Would you consider a pianist as over-temperamental if he stopped playing because some stupid listener blew his nose during a particularly delicate point in his playing? I don't think that you would and yet you insist that a fencer is a poor sportsman to be disturbed by the fact that a director interprets an opponent's immediate remise as the initial attack and awards it above the direct riposte. This not only steals one of his rightful points from him but gives his opponent a touch he didn't deserve, a difference of two points. Don't forget that these fencers spend hours and hours, year upon year in their training. They have worked just as hard as your artist or pianist to perfect their abilities. To them, a touch beautifully executed is an accomplishment as deserving of proper recognition as the ink drawing or the piano solo. They deserve this much credit, that they seldom blow up at the first evidence of faulty officiating. Nevertheless, they are human and as the evening wears on, the competition becomes harder, and the muscles grow weary, the nerves become more jumpy and fireworks do occur.
As I've already mentioned, you see more evidences of poor sportsmanship in the higher classifications than any other place. I hope that I have given adequate explanation of this. Otherwise, Mr. Strobel would certainly appear to be right when he says, "Then too, the high tension of everlasting competition works on the participants to such an extent that the word sportsmanship is just something heard of rather than practiced." Without the underlying facts, any logician could prove that since the Seniors give the poorest exhibition of sportsmanship and since they too have generally been in competition longer than anyone else then it is plain that multiple competition makes you a poor sport. Equally as provable would be the statement that the poorer sport you were the sooner you would become a Senior. No, the answer lies in a fact that the spectator is seldom in a position to appreciate and the non-competitor fails to realize, namely that unsportsmanlike conduct on a competitive strip originates from an official's inadequacy rather than from a competitor's will to win at all odds.
There is no personal animosity between opponents in a fencing match. You don't hate your opponent. The keenest fought bouts are usually those between very close friends. There is no pleasanter place than a locker room before and after a competition. The fencers assemble, renew close acquaintanceships, discuss the sport, joke among themselves at occurrences during the competition, and later drift off in groups all mixed up as to clubs or affiliations to have a cup of coffee together. I have never heard any of them say, "John Jones was certainly a poor sport today." They might say, "John, you certainly blew all to pieces on that stop-thrust decision, what was the matter?" This would be a natural investigation of causes but no implication that he had been a poor sport toward his opponent by doing so.
We have admitted that certain things happen during competition that do not look well to the outsider. They are unfortunate and regrettable. They can be eliminated by strict enforcement of the silence rule on the part of competitors. This, unfortunately, would not stop the actual cause of the trouble which lies in poor officiating. The ability of judges and officials has improved remarkably in recent years. It will undoubtedly continue to improve. Either enforce the silence rule or forbid spectators from witnessing competitions. As a competitor I am in favor of the latter. (No friend of mine has ever been invited to a competition in which I participated.) On the other hand, as one desirous of making as many Americans fencing-conscious as possible, I am in favor of the former. Therefore, let us enforce the silence rule and make the most of it.
We have perhaps been unfair in discussing one angle of sportsmanship at such great length. An apology for the behavior of competitors is probably of little interest to the non-competitor. Nevertheless, this essay to this point has been felt due to the competitors who time and again are looked upon as poor sports.
As for good sportsmanship and the fencer little further need be said. He is the best sportsman in the world. All kinds and types enter the sport and the sport itself has a refining quality of its own wherein it either weeds out the poor sport in some magical way or better still makes good sports of the few poor sports who continue to fence. In all sincerity I say that the Seniors are actually the best fencing sportsmen. The sport itself deserves credit for this for the longer one associates himself with fencing the better sportsman he becomes. Competitions should not be blamed for poor sportsmanship for the men who enter competitions are better sports than those who do not.
I should tread lightly on this last point. I shall offend a great number of alligator-skinned non-competitive fencers in salles all over this country who positively refuse to call a touch against themselves unless that touch is so obvious that it cannot be avoided. They are the really poor sportsmen that we have to deal with. Fortunately they count for nothing and need be used here only in final refutation of the charge that has been made against men courageous enough to enter competition. This is not meant to imply that non-competitive fencers are poor sportsmen as a rule but I firmly believe that if a man has any tendencies toward being a poor sport he will get these tendencies knocked out of him in competition. They will never be knocked out of him in salle fencing for here his opponents will go on giving him all of the breaks which in fact leads him to bolder and bolder claims for himself. It is most aggravating to visit a strange salle d’armes and undergo the invitations to fence with all and sundry. The competitive fencers one meets will always play square with you but so many of the others will ask to fence for touches and then proceed to refuse to acknowledge the hits they receive. Perhaps they rush home and write their dear diaries that they beat so-and-so today. Whatever it is you can never beat them on their own terms without violating your own code. It really matters nothing, but experiences of this kind leave a bad taste in your mouth that you will seldom experience in competition.
Now let us take some of the men who impress spectators as poor sportsmen during competition. Watch them in the salle d’armes. They invariably call every conceivable slap or pass as good touches against themselves. How is this? My explanation remains that these men are thoroughly good sports and that their temperamental actions on the competitive strip are aimed in sheer exasperation at the wrong decisions of the officials. All competitors suffer from this and some are less able to control their reactions than others. I defend them only from the charge of being poor sports.
I cannot agree with Mr. Strobel’s plea for a more leisurely approach to the whole art of fencing. Fencing as an art would soon die if such a condition should come about. Salle fencing and fencing play are good and have elements of fun, but this would become deadly monotonous if you did not occasionally count touches and vie to outdo your opponent. The idea of not wanting to beat your opponent is as strange to fencing fundamentals as never wanting to spurt your automobile above a 35 mile per hour speed would be to an automobilist. It just isn’t natural for the human being not to want to test himself against opposition. On the other hand all competition and no play is equally bad. A fencer, I believe, needs some of both. A complete concentration upon one or the other loses half of the fun of the sport for the participant. I can therefore agree with Mr. Strobel when he says that all competition is bad. I do not believe that a complete reversal to non-competition would do the sport any good. Both have their place, both have their own brand of sportsmanship and combined they make up fencing as a complete sport, offering fun, exercise, character training and variety.
It is perhaps poor sportsmanship to write this reply to some of Mr. Strobel’s statements and place them so that the average reader will read them after reading Mr. Strobel’s article. There is a certain advantage in being the last speaker and this article has that vantage point. We hope that our readers will now read Mr. Strobel’s article a second time and give him fair credit for his point of view.
Mr. Strobel is an ardent devotee of fencing. He is a professional and teaches the sport at the Morris High School in New York City. He has supervised the conduct of the P.S.A.L. fencing championships in New York City for many years. From his group have come such fencers as Norman Lewis, Maxwell Garrett, Silvio Giolito and Arthur Tauber to name a few. Other coaches and schools are now receiving credit for the accomplishments of many of the boys who were started in fencing by him and other coaches in the Public School Athletic League. These coaches have to fight constantly against the competitive desires of their boys who, after a few lessons, want only to go into competition. They endeavor to counteract this youthful enthusiasm for point-counting by stressing "form credit" and have trained excellent little fencers as a result of this.
— D.E.
