Coronavirus Blues
by Steve McGill
In the past week, all of our lives have been turned upside down. Fear is in the air. And so is death. And so is sadness. The coronavirus that started on the other side of the world has hit not only close to home, but at the very center of our lives. As I said to one of my students last week, these are strange times we are living in. The purpose of this article is to discuss how the pandemic has already affected the world of track and field, will potentially continue to affect the world of track and field, and how it has affected me personally. I always try to provide a message of hope in everything I write, no matter how dark the topic, and this article will be no different in that regard, although I can’t promise I will be successful.
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Like the rest of you, I have never lived through anything like this, so I’m constantly re-evaluating my thinking, re-adjusting my approach to this whole thing. The evolution of this crisis into an international crisis has happened so swiftly that the ways it affects us on a personal level have been daunting, unexpected, and downright frightening.
Let’s go back to Monday March 9th, when the world still seemed fairly normal, although the rumblings were getting louder, sort of like when you hear word that a hurricane is coming, but you keep hoping and even assuming that it’s going to turn in a different direction, that it’s not going to affect you in your corner of the world. But with this virus, no corner of the world is safe.
On Tuesday, I received a message from the parent of an athlete who was registered to attend my hurdles camp on March 21-22, asking me if the camp was still going to be held, considering the threat of the pandemic. I replied that the camp was still on as scheduled, and that I’d communicate with all who registered if that were to change. Then on Wednesday, March 11th, everything changed.
My camp co-director Hector Cotto sent out an email asking parents if they wanted to still attend the camp, considering the current conditions. I also emailed the director of the venue where we were going to hold the camp, asking his thoughts. He emailed me back saying he felt we should have it, but would understand if we chose not to.
Then, around noon that day, I received an email from my daughter’s college—Bowdoin College, in Maine, where she is finishing up her senior year. I usually delete those emails because they’re usually comprised of updates and news bits that are irrelevant to me, but I decided to read this one because Sanura had told me to check my email for graduation info. Well, this email certainly did have graduation info. Wasn’t gonna be no graduation ceremony. Campus was going to shut down and students would need to pack their stuff and move out within eight days. Classes for the rest of the semester would be taught remotely. Well damn. That was the moment when the coronavirus became real for Steve McGill.
That night, I was watching an NBA basketball game on TV, as my Philadelphia 76ers were playing the Detroit Pistons at home. Watching this game allowed me to believe the illusion that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. The arena was packed, the players were breathing and sweating on each other, and life was still going on as usual. But while watching the game, I received a text from my brother stating that another game that was supposed to be played that night was being postponed. The Utah Jazz vs. OKC Thunder game. No explanation as to why. Then he texted again a few minutes later saying that he saw on Twitter that Utah center Rudy Gobert has tested positive for the coronavirus.
That game ended up being cancelled before it even started, and so was another game scheduled to be played that night. By the time I had settled into my bed to go to sleep, NBA Commissioner Adam Silver had announced that the rest of the season would be suspended until further notice.
That was the moment when my little hurdle camp, which had seemed like the center of the universe to me, suddenly became small and insignificant. I didn’t have a choice anymore. I had to cancel the camp. So I did. And I’ve lost a whole lot of money in refunds. But that’s the least of my concerns at this point.
After the NBA suspended its season, the avalanche began. Colleges across the nation shut down on-campus learning and switched to remote learning, basically evicting their students. School districts started closing and going remote. The NCAA cancelled March Madness and everything else under the sun. Major League Baseball ended spring training and told everyone to go home for a while. The NHL also suspended operations. The Masters Golf Tournament has been cancelled. By Friday, the school where I teach announced that we would be going remote until mid-April, at the earliest. Not to be a pessimist, but if the experts are saying that the virus will continue to spread before it starts to slow down, there’s no reason to believe we’ll be back at school in a month.
In the track world, the effects have been devastating. The Indoor World Championships were cancelled a good while ago, but that wasn’t alarming because an international competition like that would’ve obviously been too dangerous to hold. And with 2020 being an Olympic year, it wasn’t likely that many major stars would show up for Indoor Worlds anyway. When that meet was cancelled, the assumption was that everything would be all good by the spring and summer. Not anymore.
One by one, last week, all major youth and high school national indoor championship meets were cancelled. The AAU Youth Nationals, the USATF Youth Nationals, and New Balance Indoor Nationals. I had kids going to those meets, and I’m sure that many of you out there did as well. Meanwhile, the NCAA has cancelled all winter and spring national championships. Many high school state associations have either suspended or cancelled their spring sports seasons.
Will there be an Olympics this year? The official word is still yes, but common sense says probably not. Entire nations are being quarantined, so do you envision everything being clean and tidy in time for the Olympics? I don’t. Will the US Olympic Trials take place this year? The official word is that they’re still on, but the venue is also suspending ticket sales, so what does that tell you? Will the Diamond League schedule go on as planned? Couldn’t find any information on that, except that the Prefontaine Meet has suspended ticket sales. Both that meet and the US Trials are (were) to be held in Eugene, Oregon.
Based on the above cancellations, there is and will be enough heartbreak going on throughout the entire world to make a grown man cry. Dreams are dying on the branches, before they even get a chance to ripen. A lot of hard work, a lot of blood sweat and tears, is proving to be for naught. A parent of one of my youth athletes shared an Instagram post with me from the athlete in which the athlete lamented the fact that she had fought back from a hip injury that had threatened her season only to have her season ended anyway by this virus. So sad! But that’s just one example of what’s happening all over the track world, and of even more heartbreaking tragedies that are happening all over the world.
Yet, in the bigger picture of things, so what? Like many of you reading this article, I’ve suffered enough loss of loved ones to know that nothing matters more than being alive. If quarantining ourselves and social distancing ourselves and taking classes remotely and losing entire track seasons means that the spreading of this virus will slow down and that less lives will be lost, then so be it, and let’s all do our part. Like I told my students on Friday, it’s you that I care about, not this class. Yes, this class matters in a certain context, but in order of importance, it just plummeted far down the list. I want to know that, a year from now, all of you will be healthy and happy, that none of you have passed away or lost loved ones to this virus.
Though I’m sad that I won’t be able to interact with my students in person, and that I won’t be able to conduct my camp and change people’s lives by doing what I do best, I would never forgive myself if I held the camp and led to the spreading of the virus. I’ve changed my thinking dramatically from five days ago.
Be safe, people. Be well. I love you all.
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