It was part of who I was and people knew me as a kid, who today would be described "as nature athlete." I was lucky to simply be blessed with coordination, strength and ability in whatever game I chose to play. I don't mention this to claim bragging rights, I bring this up because all those years of organized sports provided me with valuable life lessons that extended beyond the team we beat or the trophy I won.

It was a time before the Passage of Title IX in 1972, a landmark law that's credited with more than 400 percent increase in women's participation in sports at the college level, and 800 percent increase at the high school level. And that's a good thing, because back in the '60s, no matter how talented a young woman was, there were limited options if you wanted to pursue a life in profession sports; and women's college athletics were barely on the radar screen—not the big business it is today. Besides it was considered very unladylike to be a "jock."

Yet the opportunity to hug and share a victory with my teammates after a close win, to cry after a heartbreaking loss or to simply be part of a group that learned what it meant to work as a unit was an invaluable experience that is layered in who I have become. Participating in sports gave me a chance to explore what it meant to strive for success, discipline, teamwork, defeat and victory through a different lens, one that wasn't part of a textbook—a real hands-on approach to learning.

And maybe because participating in collegiate sports wasn't big business for young women, coaches approached their role with a different mindset. That's not to say that my coaches weren't passionate about the outcome. They just seemed to view us as whole people instead of tools for winning. These coaches showed us their honest love for the game, and passed it on along with lessons garnered from the experience.

This was why the recent California Supreme Court ruling permitting Olivia Kahn to pursuit her lawsuit against her former Mount Pleasant High School coach and the East Side Union High School District grabbed my interest.

For those unfamiliar with the story, Kahn broke her neck nine years ago while practicing a dive. Her coach told her if she didn't dive off the blocks during the upcoming competition she would not be allowed to compete with her team in the relay race. Prior to that she had started all her races in the water. The California Supreme Court viewed this behavior as reckless conduct that could intentionally injure a player.

But here's where I'm having some trouble. Even though Kahn had a passion for swimming, she was terrified of diving. So much so that she envisioned seriously injuring herself—an unfortunate prophecy turned reality. Everyone including the coach knew her fear, so it seems that the coach should have presented her with two possible scenarios.

If diving off the blocks was part of qualifying for the team, he should have explained it from the beginning, and given her every opportunity to overcome her fear with the proper guidance and coaching that is expected of adults in mentoring positions.

However, if it became inevitable that Kahn was totally fear-struck and unable to overcome this hurtle, he should have encouraged her to swim for the love of the sport and give up the competitive element.

Instead the emphasis was on the win, which left Kahn emotionally and physically scarred, and a coach—who had a great opportunity to help a young person grow inwardly—seeing nothing more than a tragic accident.

The final score puts both coach and player in the loss column, and should have all of us looking hard at the backbone of organized sports. Participating in youth sports can be one of the most rewarding experiences. But it's the responsibility of the adults involved to remain focused on the real reason they signed up as coaches in the first place, which is not bragging rights to the best record, but helping each children do his or her best.

Moryt Milo is the editor of The Willow Glen Resident. She can be contacted at 400.200.1051 or mmilo@svcn.com.