don kelly

The Detroit Tigers' Don Kelly

(Mike Mulholland)

On the day Detroit Tigers utility player Don Kelly finally calls it quits – and I hope that day is a long way off – my sincere hope is that he segues into higher education.



Specifically, my fervent desire is that he secures enough backing to establish "Don Kelly University," where the school colors contain every hue in the rainbow, the logo is a Swiss Army knife, and the motto goes something like "Primo Defecto, Secundo Consilio."



For the uninitiated – or those who need a refresher course – Kelly is the 34-year-old Tiger whose claim to fame includes being the only active major leaguer to have played all nine defensive positions.



By one account, he keeps five different kinds of gloves close at hand – one for playing third base, another for first, a catcher's mitt, an outfielder's glove and finally, what's known as a middle infielder's glove.



You can rave about Miggy's keen eye and powerful bat. Or Scherzer's control. But for a long time, my favorite Tiger has been No. 32, the kid from Pennsylvania and a former West Michigan Whitecap who's been dubbed "Donny-Do-It-All" for his ability to switch, bend, adapt, conform.



And I don't think it's much of a stretch for today's collegians to take a lesson from this different kind of educator – one who wears a ballplayer's uniform rather than a tweed sportsjacket and Birkenstocks.



Today's graduates are walking across the dais with a smile on their face that belies this inner fear: That they've spent four or five years learning how to do just one thing.



If that.



There are exceptions, of course. Some students dive into a smattering of liberal arts courses that help them see the intrinsic rewards ahead. Then, too, there are kids who participated in life activities. They know how to drive a stick, milk a cow, make a chair from willow twigs, find their way without a GPS.



But my sense is that a lot of them would benefit from a semester or two at DKU, where Dean Donny would encourage a kid majoring in biology to spend some time warming up in the philosophy department.

A student absorbed with math would be expected to take a few swings at history.

And everyone would step up to an on-deck circle where the next stop is astronomy, archaeology, comparative religions, pottery.



As part of the curriculum, you'd have to know your way around the following just to graduate: a checkbook, small engines, Form 1040, the wonders of compound interest, the intricacies of a toilet tank, photosynthesis, differentiating homonyms, how to sew or knit, books without pictures in them, the seasoning of cast iron cookware, the essentials of gardening, and perhaps most importantly, how to answer potential life-altering questions such as "Do you think this outfit makes me look fat?"



In Kelly's classes, students would have to run wind sprints and possibly be sent down to the minor leagues (high school) if they even dared use a smart phone during lectures and tutorials.



Like Kelly himself, they'd be expected to show up at every class session not knowing how they might be utilized that day. One afternoon, they might find themselves pitching in with classmates to erect a pole barn. The next, they're tapping a sugar maple for sap. Or filing into the campus daycare center to try their hand at changing diapers.



Eventually, they'd graduate with enough knowledge to call a time-out on themselves and readjust their compasses. OK, so that job as a CPA didn't work out? No problem, because at DKU, you learned a little harmonica, and now you're working a jazz joint. And you've got enough spare time to volunteer at Habitat for Humanity, because at Don Kelly U., they taught you how to hang vinyl siding.



All the while, you're patient. Just like Don, who after graduating from Mount Lebanon High School, attended Point Park College in downtown Pittsburgh, then spent what some would argue was an insufferable amount of time pinballing through the minor leagues.



Graduation from Kelly U. wouldn't be too big a deal. That's because so far, you've only proven that you can play beer pong every night and still make an 8 o'clock class.



The real test comes when you're called up to The Show, and on any given night, not know which glove you'll be wearing.



Pitch. Catch. Grounders. Fly balls.



In today's workaday world, traditional college might not be enough. Because specializing in just one discipline is simply short-changing yourself.



To translate the Latin phrase above, "Everyone Needs A Plan B."