There seems to be some confusion among the ranks in and out of the OIA. Apparently, according to a source I trust, word is going around (somehow) that I hate the OIA. Why? It has to do with my reports about schedule flip-flops that forced Campbell and Kahuku to travel to a lower-seeded team's site for boys basketball playoff games. It has to do with my story more than a year ago about Farrington's football team being forced to travel cross-island to play at a lower seed's field in a playoff game.

Of course, the people or person saying that I am against the OIA won't say it to my face because it's absolutely untrue. I take pride in the simple fact that I went to public schools all my life. Sure, my family never could afford any other route. Some of my best friends growing up went to private schools. But I will never hate the OIA, the league I played in, coached in, and have watched for decades.

The role models of my high school years (early 1980s) came from public schools. Charlie Miyashiro, the former AD at Kaimuki. My coach, Tom Costain. My JV coaches, Miles Ogawa and Raymond Fujino. Even a coach who didn't coach my sport, Patrick Foster, saved a poor kid who couldn't afford the trip to Okinawa. Coach Foster made up the difference after the kid went to every fundraiser through the entire off-season and still didn't have enough.

Those are the men I looked up to during those years at Kaimuki. There was also OIA East all-star Miles Howard, who had recently graduated, but often returned to scrimmage against us and show us the meaning of hard-nosed basketball. Actually, the first time I learned what toughness in basketball was about came from Dwight Sato, a former McKinley all-star linebacker, who coached me at Boys Club of Honolulu.

It was during those years when I had the fortune to learn under Barry Masuo, our newspaper editor and teacher. He was hardass, just as tough and demanding as any of my coaches. He was fair, even-tempered and a great coach. Because of him, I began writing about OIA sports in 1982. Holy crap, it's been 26 years since!

The backbone of OIA athletics is comprised of people like these men. So, for anyone to blindly accuse me of hating the OIA ... I'm always around, so come talk to me. I enjoy sharing conversation with folks who have a passion for high school athletics. We may have differences or none at all, but I want to show you what all my role models taught me about working hard, being straightforward and sharing time, knowledge and resources. That's where I come from.

When I write anything concerning the logistics of sports in the OIA, I try to confer with the leaders first. Then I write. And if that process is unsatisfactory to anyone, so be it. I can't make every single person happy.

When there is an issue regarding unfairness, almost nobody is happy no matter what I write. But it behooves any of us as writers to bring the truth to light, to bring voice to different aspects of the issue. I do that and will continue to do this. There are times, though, when I reach out and there is no response. Sometimes, people don't return phone calls or would rather not comment. I respect that. No comment is what works for them at the time, but at least they get a call from me. Or a question in person.

In the end, the reality is that everyone involved with high school athletics is striving for more. My theory that adults sometimes screw it up for the kids is truer than ever, but it's not all bad. Wind the calendar back 50 years, and all we had was the Rural Oahu Interscholastic Association and the Interscholastic League of Honolulu, the latter soon to splinter because of rampant recruiting by the private schools.

Rewind the clock 100 years, and athletics for youth were virtually non-existent. So yes, adults mess things up, but I like to think we as adults err on the side of good intentions. When the mistakes happen, whether by accident or design, we absolutely must recognize the problem, address it, improve upon it and move forward.

That's why I found it disturbing that someone gave Kahuku High School a phone call recently to question the administration and/or athletic department when its boys basketball coach was quoted in one of my stories. He was naturally displeased when his team was moved out of its Senior Night home game to play at another gym. That was a legitimate concern and he spoke not only for himself, but on behalf of his players and their families.

If the only time the school gets a phone call (with a tone of disdain, no less) is when a coach speaks up, perhaps there should be more phone calls. Earlier phone calls. More communication between the league and outside parties before Kahuku is shipped off to another part of the island on Senior Night.

The OIA, with its roots in the ROIA (Kahuku, Campbell, Castle formerly Parker H.S., and more) would do well with its unique, great history to have more discussion, more transparency between coaches and coordinators, players and administrators. Ladies and gentlemen, we have the technology.

So I applaud all of you for trying, just as I applauded my former age-group and JV players. But I also want you to feel free to speak up, even if you feel secure about a decision. Better to be safe than sorry, to inform everyone than to wonder if they got the note. Get yourself an answering machine. Use the text mode on your cell. E-mail gloriously and magnificently!

It's a short life we live. We share the joy, we get upset, we console, we celebrate. We move forward. There's no confusion in those real elements of life. There won't be any confusion as long as we discuss openly. Directly.

Those of you who have my phone number, call me if you want clarity.

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