The Beauty of Losing

It was 5:30am, darkness was spooning me in my glorious, delicious slumber…until the “radar” alarm setting began to explode into the silence and snatched my unwilling mind from my sleeping splendor and back into the land of the living. Dear iPhone, what a stressful sound that radar one is. Radar. You’ve been found. Sleeping. Alert the authorities. Ugh. Why did I choose that alarm tone. Okay, wait. What day is it? Sunday. Wait. What? Oh. Right, soccer tournament an hour away in PA. Arrival time is 7:30am. Can I snooze? Is there time? Well, I still have to make the cooler…why didn’t I do that last night? Too tired. And we have to make a stop for coffee. Coffee… Must have coffee. Venti today. For sure. Alright. Enough. Up I go.

Tiptoeing through the night air, sighs of contentedly sleeping family members greeting my ears as I try to silently sneak over the squeaks from our hard wood floor. Clothes on, teeth brushed, bag packed, items for the day finalized. Time to wake the hibernating bear, who looks a whole lot like a sweet seven year old boy. Up, uniform and shin guards on, Starbucks acquired, over the bridge we go. In the rain. Under umbrellas we gather, exhausted soccer moms laughing away our still-foggy brains, ready to brave the sidelines yet again. We cheer, we support, game over. Another loss.

The whole ride home, I thought about this. Social media shows us all the smiles and trophies and medals of the ones who win (present company included ??). And I love to see it and it’s fun to share when our people do the things they do super well. Throughout history, there is much celebration surrounding victory, from the hunts to the battlefields to the tennis matches of today. Each one is met with pomp and circumstance, a delicious meal to feed one’s tribe, bleats from bugles and medals of honor, trophies the size of toddlers and flashbulb snaps and the paparazzi going gaga. On a very basic level, winning feels good. Chemically, it increases testosterone, which ups our dopamine which hits the reward center in our brain and it makes us feel, physically, *better.* Studies have shown that Nobel prize *winners* and *Hall of Fame* baseball players and *Academy Award-winning* actors…all of these people actually on average live for several years *longer* than their same-aged, possibly equally-talented but unequally-awarded, counterparts. What makes one win is a beautiful symphony of hard work, strength, endurance, mental toughness, artistic intelligence, genetically-blessed physiques that lend themselves to making you more likely to sprint faster, throw farther, hold your breath longer, navigate a field with finesse and….*luck.* So much can change for a competitor or team based on things utterly out of our control…Super Bowl coin flips, an ill-timed gust of wind, a mechanical error in the timing equipment, a charlie horse at the.worst.second. But luck in the other direction: a gust of wind sending your ball flying all the way to the green, a power surge from the core of your boat sending your team’s bowball in front of your competition, the clock that ticks in your favor, the ball that finds that tippy-top-corner-hole in the goal to win the game, the buzzer beater basket that sends the crowds to rush the court. Ahh. Winning feels good.

Okay, so, there are two sides to every story and for every smiling face on Facebook holding a trophy, there are, theoretically, also the “losing” counterparts. The other kids and teams playing the smiling kids with the trophies. But we don’t often see those guys…usually because it’s not as cute or as exciting. Little buddy’s slumped shoulders or wistful glances running replays in their minds. Those people are not as camera-ready.

So it was interesting because on this day, getting up at the crack of dawn and watching all the *losing* on the field was uncomfortable to *me.* My son, normally a loving but competitive kiddo, though, was not heartbroken. I think thanks in large part to his wonderful coach, he returned to me at the end of the game and when I said “great job out there, bud! How are ya?” He said “good.” “How do you feel about the game today?” as I tousled his sweaty hair while he leaned in for a hug. He paused and said “well, we did pass a little better than in the last game and we had more shots on goal. I wish we won, but, we actually played pretty good.” My heart practically burst. Winning, certainly, whether it’s you yourself, your child, your alma mater, your city, your *team*… no doubt about it, scientifically proven, it just feels *good.*  Losing, on the other hand, definitely does *not*. *But.* Learning to lose with your head held high is an art form altogether different. It’s uncomfortable. But *not* blaming the goalie. Or the defenders. Or the offensive players. Or the coach. Is huge. Recognizing that it takes communication and trust to pass the ball and know your teammates will be there to receive it. Huge. Continuing to humbly celebrate your own team’s little successes in the face of a loss, while still in earshot of the cheering opposing team, huge. It was a learning moment for me, certainly. All these things all these little guys are learning out there, on lacrosse turfs or football fields or in swimming pools, win or lose, will serve them so well in life. In human relationships, in job interviews, in business endeavors… it’s important to learn what it feels like to be on the inside and outside of the winners circle. For team sports, there is so so much material, that if we really break it down, there are lessons, *in all of it.* Honing your unique skill set so that when it’s time, and your coach calls you in to [insert: score a goal, serve an ace, beat your time from last meet, etc], you go and you do it, as best you can. You get looked over for a position or team or promotion later in life…it’s motivation to work even harder. Even in individual events, you’re still part of a team. While it’s easy to celebrate one child’s victory of one event, it often takes more than that one event to win the whole meet…everyone has to show up and perform as well, or better, in their own events to get the W. Feeling the sting of a loss and getting hungry for that win…and showing up at practice ready to grow and learn and improve. All of it. There’s space for all of it, and room for all of us to grow from, present company included ??. Malcolm Forbes said “If you’ve had a good time playing the game, you’re a winner even if you lose.” I love that quote and I’m thankful to my boy who reminded me of that today.