Tim Prister

  • With anonymity comes loss of humanity

    “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

    Literature aficionados may recall that opening line from Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities,” a novel set in London and Paris about the French Revolution. But that famous phrase written 150 years ago also applies to how information is spread today via the Internet.

    It is the best of times for obvious reasons. We literally have information on virtually any topic at any time of the day at our fingertips. Just tap out the topic of your interest, and you can read/learn about anything you ever imagined.

    The concept for those of us old enough to have relied upon the old Funk & Wagnalls’ encyclopedias for information still resonates with me. The ability to answer any question about any topic in a blink of the eye is something those of us from that age bracket will never take for granted.

    The hours spent in libraries, oftentimes in a futile search for information, are haunting memories from my education. To this day, I still don’t think I know how to efficiently move about and maximize my time spent in search of information in a library.

    Fortunately, it doesn’t matter anymore. I have all the access to information I need at my laptop on the Internet.

    But like so many other advantages that come to us in life, there is a flip side, an equal and opposite action if you will, an insidious side that entraps and corrupts. It is the worst of times too.

    Besides the obvious access to the seedier side of life that is so readily available on the Internet, we have allowed the creation of the individual who is empowered by anonymity, which in turn allows that person to abandon human decency as it pertains to the treatment of others.

    I, along with two partners, own a Web site that chronicles Notre Dame football. It caters to the fanatics. The editors of the site pour a steady stream of information to our subscribers by reporting on games, practices, press conferences, interviews, high school football recruiting, etc., which in itself is a good and positive thing. It provides educated, well-thought feedback on what is happening in the Notre Dame football world.

    But with such a venue comes the creation of the “message board” world. Our pay message board is called “The Four Horsemen Lounge,” named after the famous Notre Dame backfield from 1924. People come to this message board for “serious discussion of Notre Dame sports,” or at least that’s how we described it upon its inception.

    But that’s not what it is, or at least, that’s only a small part of what it is now. Subscribers who join the site create a message board name like ND4ever or Rockne32 to identify themselves. This anonymity has created some interesting interplay from subscriber to subscriber or subscriber to editor. As an editor of the site, when I state an opinion, my full name appears. But only myself and the other editors are identified.

    That anonymity has created a world in which disrespect for one another is rampant, where cruel, judgmental, vulgar comments are fostered, and where the cloak of namelessness allows for no accusation or insult to be too far “out there” to hurl.

    Several years ago, when the Web site was created, the concept had a purity to it. Notre Dame fans sharing ideas with other Notre Dame fans and reading about the program through the eyes of the people reporting on the process who are up close and personal.

    Those elements still exist to some extent because there remain some intelligent, thoughtful and respectful individuals.

    What concerns me is the next generation of Internet readers because they are growing up in this anonymous world in which hiding behind a name like WeisGuy1 empowers a person to be as nasty and demeaning as he would like toward player, coach or fellow subscriber without the repercussions of identification or accountability.

    That’s not to say that those from the older generation are not among the more outspoken and disrespectful. But most of those people grew up in an era when the expression of an opinion bore a degree of responsibility. You couldn’t hide behind the wall. The old fashioned “letter to the editor” required a full name and address sent to the newspaper — and verification that you sent it — before your opinion was printed.

    These truly are the best and the worst of times that we live in when it comes to the acquisition of knowledge and the sharing of thoughts on the Internet. Unfortunately, with those benefits comes the creation of a monster that is a hateful and destructive beast.

    Posted on December 16, 2009, to:

  • Counselor, umpire, friend

    The designation of Monsignor — or Chaplain to His Holiness — is a form of address conferred upon men of the clergy by the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI. This distinction recently was bestowed upon seven priests from the local diocese, including Rev. Michael W. Heintz, Ph.D., rector of St. Matthew Cathedral, pastor of St. Matthew Cathedral Parish, former Fort Wayne Bishop Dwenger, Mishawaka Marian and South Bend Saint Joseph’s teacher, and current teacher at the University of Notre Dame.

    Msgr. Mike also is a graduate of the Wendelstedt Umpire School in Florida, which may not carry the same cachet as the above-mentioned titles, but makes for an interesting dichotomy for a man of the cloth while providing a unique perspective for one who must “arbitrate” on a higher level.
    But to know Msgr. Mike requires many less formal titles, ones that do not necessitate capitalization, decrees from Pope Benedict XVI or certificates from former major league baseball umpires.

    You see, Msgr. Mike makes being a Catholic, well, for lack of a more accurate word, fun. Now most wouldn’t call one’s choice of faith fun per se, but if you know Msgr. Mike, you know what I mean. It seems to me as a child growing up Catholic, I tended to think of it more as a chore because of all those rules and regulations I had to abide by.

    But from Msgr. Mike, you learn how to enjoy your Catholicism, to cherish your Catholicism, and to reap the benefits of being Catholic. Attending Mass celebrated by Msgr. Mike not only is enjoyable, it is something to look forward to, a highlight of the week. I seem to embrace the prayers that we say and the music that we sing more when he is the celebrant.

    I recently commented to my wife how spoiled we are with Msgr. Mike’s homilies because we take it for granted that there will be a pertinent, interesting topic that is applicable to our everyday lives.

    His message is a shared message. He includes himself when he talks about the daily struggles of hubris, self-centeredness and unfair judgment of others, which is what makes the message so easily accepted and absorbed. He is not speaking at us; he is speaking with us.

    Msgr. Mike makes living life look so easy. Now there’s nothing easy about his life. It is filled to the brim, and as a priest, it’s safe to say people are calling on him to share their sorrows much more than their joys. He is a problem-solver, and they’re usually someone else’s problems. His own problems are put on the backburner or, more commonly, disregarded altogether. Yet he glides through life with an effortlessness that I strive to emulate, but almost always seem to fall short.

    Msgr. Mike doesn’t just talk the talk; he walks the walk. He sets the example for those around him. He rolls with the punches, or rather, makes it appear as if the punches missed altogether.

    It is abundantly clear that Msgr. Mike enjoys his life, enjoys being a priest. No one could fake it with that much enthusiasm. We expect him to be “on” all the time, and quite honestly, he always is.

    Now I — as the Mishawaka Marian High School baseball coach — have the special privilege of having Msgr. Mike in our dugout for the majority of our games. The fact that he is a certified professional umpire and an aficionado of the rules of the game certainly comes in handy. His presence as counselor, advisor and barrier to all language unclean is a great benefit as well, although it would be less than accurate to claim that in the heat of battle, he has served as an impenetrable filter of said language, through no fault of his own.

    Msgr. Mike has been known to hear the confession of a player in the outfield before a game, agitate the umpires for the sake of entertainment, and pray for the head coach when the vein on the side of his neck is protruding over a critical call that went against us.

    He also has strategically placed his frame between the arbitrator and mine when the situation has dictated, and for that, I am forever grateful.

    But for all the hats that Msgr. Mike wears, there is one that any of his parishioners can relate to, and that is the title of friend. He cares. He cares about your well-being, most particularly the well-being of your soul. He understands his job and he applies it like a best friend would.

    I have had the incredible fortune of countless blessings in my life, and one of the truly great blessings is the friendship and counsel of Msgr. Michael W. Heintz. I feel as if God has given my family and me a very special privilege by placing Msgr. Mike in our lives.

    If you know Msgr. Mike, you undoubtedly share many of the same feelings, and that truly is a blessing.

    Posted on November 18, 2009, to:

  • A thinking man’s guide to writing about, cheering for the team

    There’s never been a day in the last 28 years that I’ve regretted entering the field of journalism, in particular, sports journalism.

    Although I’ve been reminded by some boisterous football fans through the years that my career of choice is occupied by a despicable band of athlete wannabes, I am proud of my work and believe that I have provided a service to Notre Dame football fans everywhere while pursuing a path that is rewarding and fulfilling.

    That’s not to say that I’ve always written the most informative and most accurate depiction of the action on the field, nor would I defend those in the business who have chosen biting and cruel commentary as their route to fame and fortune.

    Somewhere along the line, “telling it like it is” became “look at me.” Instead of reporting the story, reporters-analysts have become the story with the microphone and camera now pointed at us instead of toward the field of play.

    Likewise, today’s sports fan has become equally obnoxious when it comes to expressing opinions about his favorite team and the coaching prowess (or lack there of) of their team’s coach. Much time is spent and anger is vented on Internet message boards toward fans whose “crime” is cheering for another team.

    I once was on the other side of the sports fence. As a teenager, I was the raving fan criticizing players, coaches and those cheating referees. Nearly three decades in football press boxes tamed the animal within since, as the cliché goes, there is no cheering in the press box. As a member of the media, your perspective is forced to change.

    I wish the sports media were a little less judgmental. In most sports (hockey and soccer are two exceptions), there is always a winner and always a loser. Many times, it comes down to one play tilting the outcome. The perspective of the winner and loser often is flipped by one play — or replay.
    When Notre Dame lost to Michigan in early September this year, Sports Illustrated depicted Michigan as being “back” while Notre Dame and Charlie Weis were still wrapped up in their losing ways. But if the official had called interference on a Michigan defensive back (from my perspective, that was the right call), Notre Dame would have kept the ball, would have run the time off the clock, and would have won the game over Michigan.

    Would, then, Notre Dame have been “back” while Michigan remained wrapped up in its losing ways? Such is the all-encompassing judgment based upon one play, one brief moment in time.

    I wish fans were less fanatical and observed the game as opposed to taking emotional stands based upon rooting interests. It’s great to cheer for your team. It gives people a way of escaping the everyday problems in life and the drudgery that often accompanies it. But can’t we just observe athletic competition, take it for what it’s worth, accept that there will always be a winner and a loser, and move on?

    I’m amazed at the people who attend high school or college sporting events with the sole intent of badgering the officials/umpires, as if it were their right, their duty. Why do we do this? Why do we take a sporting event and turn it into a public beheading of a guy who is making $40 a game and simply trying to do his job?

    In covering Notre Dame basketball the last 28 years, I’ve heard the same familiar voice each home game, and at some point in the game, this gentleman questions the integrity of the officials.

    Every game? Every official? How childish.

    How about a more civilized approach to observing sports? Cheer for your team, pull for a victory and sure, go ahead and moan when a call goes against you. But in the end, how about accepting the outcome, feeling disappointment that the game didn’t turn out the way you had hoped, but keeping your integrity intact?

    Those who blame the officials or a coach for every loss is a symptomatic reflection of society: blame someone else for your own shortcomings.
    I realize it’s too late to turn back in a world of non-stop public commentary, and that certainly adds fun and excitement to a sporting event. But the next time, before you berate an official or coach, stop, think, use reason and good judgment, and recognize there will always be a winner and a loser in a sporting event.

    Common sense is a much better — and healthier — approach to cheering for your team and evaluating the action on the field.

    Posted on October 21, 2009, to:

  • Opinions better left unsaid

    The ability, or rather, the willingness to share an opinion whenever the mood strikes is either a biological inheritance or a learned trait, or perhaps a combination of both. I’m not really sure since I grew up in a house full of opinions that were freely shared.

    And so that tendency was passed down to me, for better or for worse.

    For better in the sense that it led to a career as a journalist, a columnist, an author — all of which have suited my career path well.

    For worse whenever it becomes necessary to remove my foot from my mouth.
    The spewing of opinions can be dangerous or, at the very least, embarrassing and undignified. I have learned this the hard way. It only takes one proclamation of a movie’s worthlessness to offend someone who thought it was the most touching piece of cinematography of all time. Like getting hit over the head with a mallet, it sometimes takes the obvious to recognize when an opinion should have been swallowed instead of served at a buffet for all to sample.

    It seems that I still haven’t learned this lesson quite well enough. It was just a few short months ago that I met the fiancé of a friend/business associate who was to be married in the summer of ‘09. Young, or at least much younger than my middle age, she had the perfect wedding planned for her and her betrothed.

    Having been married some 23 1/2 years, my image of a wedding and her image of a wedding were diametrically opposed. Her image, of course, was that it was the most important day of her life. My image, with nearly a quarter of a century of marriage under my belt, was that it was an important day, but there was certainly a better way to spend one’s money than to dump it into an extravagant wedding when some of that would be better spent on a down payment on a house or anything more significant than a day that would come and go in a heartbeat.

    I reached out for the words, but it was too late. They had escaped from my mouth, and I couldn’t get them back. I thought I was diplomatic and actually providing a bit of wisdom from my experiences. But the look on her face said otherwise. I closed my eyes, buried my head in my hand and cursed myself for yet another opinion gone awry.

    It’s funny how we get an education to gather knowledge, to learn things we wouldn’t have otherwise known, and to arm ourselves with the equipment needed to be a success in life. We spend literally hundreds of thousands of dollars on an education and still come away dumber than a box of rocks.

    All the knowledge in the world doesn’t help much without tact, good judgment, and a nod to what someone might find offensive or inappropriate. That’s not to say that we should go around always trying to say things to please people. There are those in our lives, particularly loved ones, who sometimes need to hear things that aren’t particularly pleasant but are for their own good.
    Usually, our interactions with other people require a certain amount of finesse, a look at what that person’s perspective may be.

    Our opinion often is not a matter of right or wrong, or knowledge over a lack of knowledge, but rather, perspective. No one can expect others to look at things exactly the way you do, any more than you can look at things the way that person does.

    So I find myself prefacing comments I make these days with “in my opinion,” or “I can see why you would think that way.” After all, isn’t it much better to stop and consider someone else’s perspective rather than immediately judging or thinking the worst of that person?

    I have an old friend who had acquaintances within all the various cliques in high school, and when we go to our reunions, he has something to talk about with everyone that returns.

    So I complimented him on what a good listener he had always been, and asked him how he, who had come from a fairly affluent background, had mixed so well with so many different groups.
    I’m paraphrasing his response, but it went something like this: “Because everyone has a different perspective, and I always thought I could learn something from them that I didn’t understand.”
    What a beautiful way to look at other people, and what a great way to be more accepting of others’ opinions, whether they coincide with yours or not.

    So I’m working on buttoning up some of those opinions, although I sometimes still bite my tongue a split second too late. Everyone is entitled to think whatever he or she wants to think … in my opinion, of course.

    Posted on September 23, 2009, to:

  • Weather or not

    Come on, admit it. If you haven’t said it yourself, someone has said it to you. And you’ve laughed or agreed or added your own insult.

    It must be nice to be a weatherman. You can be wrong most of the time and still keep your job.

    Oh, those poor meteorologists. All of civilized mankind clings to their every word. Your entire day often depends upon what your local meteorologist tells you, and then it rains when it was supposed to shine, or you are terribly uncomfortable because it is much cooler than you anticipated.

    “Once again, the weatherman is wrong!” we declare, and then laugh amongst ourselves at their ineptitude.

    Well, the laugh is on us because we’ve been looking at this all wrong. I have a theory, and I think it’s a pretty good one. It’s the only one that makes sense to me, and I don’t know why others haven’t simply come to the same conclusion and adopted it.

    Maybe God doesn’t want us to be able to predict the weather.

    First of all, to conclude that these well educated individuals are somehow ignorant or deficient or lacking in the necessary means to do their job is a little silly. They are well educated. They have all the intelligence and available technology at their fingertips to provide the most accurate prediction of the weather.

    Perhaps there’s simply a limit on how accurately a trained professional can forecast the weather.

    Cari Peugeot, an Indiana University graduate and a meteorologist at WSBT-TV in South Bend, laughs at the stereotypes that come with the profession. She’s heard it all before.

    Continue reading…

    Posted on August 12, 2009, to: