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You can’t win them all. Deal with it.


I am a mom of three sporty boys and my husband is a dedicated coach. We spend every weekend and countless days of the week at the fields, playing one sport or another. Football, baseball, basketball, soccer… we play them all.

Often, my boys are good, sometimes even great, and I watch from the sidelines glowing from the inside out. There are also the strike-outs and errors that make me cringe and cover my eyes. Some days my kids have it. Some days they don’t. Some games the teams are on fire. Some games they crash and burn.

Yet, at the end of each season, win or lose, they all get a trophy.

I don’t understand this at all. I know it’s important to support and encourage them, blah blah, but since when did a trophy for participation become encouragement?

When I was younger we played sports because we loved to. We didn’t need a trophy as an incentive, nor were they handing them out like candy, and guess what? That was okay.  What’s wrong with “Great season, guys. Next time, we’ll get em!”

What’s wrong with only rewarding the real winners?? This ‘everyone wins’ mentality is just ridiculous. Everyone doesn’t win. Welcome to life.    

Losing is not a bad thing. Without losing, there’s no motivation to be better. The only way to achieve success is through failure, yet we are so afraid of this important life lesson. As cliché as it sounds, losing builds character.  And character, if you ask me, is something our young folk seem to be lacking.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the seventies, that I feel this way. Growing up, I was pretty independent. Generally, I had to be home by dark and not get into any trouble. That’s it. Can you imagine that today? Today, we are the over-protectors, over-schedulers and over-achievers. We watch their every move, give them the best of everything and try to take care of their every need.

We’re making it too easy for our kids. We shield and protect them from all of life’s struggles, so much so that we are rewarding them for nothing. Today, it seems, just showing up is an accomplishment. What will they ever strive for, if they have been handed everything on a silver platter with a shiny trophy on top?

And what about the real winners? Anyone ever consider them? You should see them on the field, jumping up and down, shouting with joy. It’s an incomparable feeling to know you accomplished something.

I remember clearly the expression on my son’s face and that of his teammates when their team came in first place in their league.  Elation. Pride. I could cry now remembering those moments. It’s so satisfying and beautiful to see. They won. They were special. They put in a greater effort.

It completely minimizes the winning team’s efforts to be handed the same trophy as everyone else. We have become so politically correct that we are afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. We need to stop over-estimating the fragility of our children’s psyches. Our kids won’t break. Let’s give them something to strive for, something that acknowledges that winning is special, and makes the losing teams want it – something symbolic… maybe a trophy??

Ultimately, sports is about having fun and gaining confidence. They kids learn to play as team, good or bad, they’re in it together. They build friendships and grow skills that will apply throughout their lives.  They will lose, and when they do, we should teach them to brush themselves off and get back in there.  And when they get back in there, they’ll be better for it.

Just because they don’t deserve a trophy doesn’t mean that we don’t support their efforts. I’m there win or lose. We play ball on the lawn. I watch their games. I cheer for their wins. I cry for their disappointments. I don’t see a trophy as support. I see it as an insult, both to the losers and the winners.

You win some. You lose some. That’s the way it is.

Winning is far from everything, but it is definitely something. If one of my boys gets a trophy, I want it to mean he actually won.

 

I’ll Worry About It Later *

* This was my week 2 blogger idol assignment which was to write about my day as a man.*

When I glance at the clock this morning, I can feel right away something is different. My back is sore and my crotch area itches a bit. Instead of jumping out of bed to run downstairs and make lunches for the kids, I decide, eh, whatever, and just roll over and sleep a little longer. Weird. I NEVER sleep longer.

One of my kids finally wakes me out of a drooling stupor. “Mommy!! It’s almost bus time!” I lift one brow and try to focus. The clock reads 7:50 am. The bus comes at 8:15 am. “F*CK!” I blurt out, which startles me more than the clock. I never say that, at least not in front of the kids. My seven year-old stares at me wide-eyed and is grinning like he’s just learned the best secret.

I make my way slooowwwlly out of bed to the bathroom, my kid following the entire time. Why do I feel like I have a hangover? “Go get ready.” I order and scratch my ass.

“But you always pick out our stuff.” He whines.

“Do it yourself.” I grumble and then fart loudly. His eyes perk again and he runs out giggling.

Ah. I sit myself down on the can for a nice, long time and flip through the paper. Heaven. By the time I get downstairs, it’s 8:10am. The boys have miraculously made themselves breakfast and are at the door ready to run to the bus stop. I give them the once over. My oldest has his shirt on inside-out, his shoe laces are untied and he’s wearing two different socks – one short and one long. My middle son looks perfect for a soccer match, and my youngest is wearing thick brown sweats, a brown tee shirt and brown rain boots. I scratch my head, amazingly unconcerned. “Did you guys brush your teeth?” They all look at each other and shrug. “Homework?” I ask, and my oldest pulls out a crumpled ball of paper from his bag. “Okay then, have a good day!”

As they bound to the bus, I notice that my oldest son’s backpack hangs open. There’s something I’m forgetting. What is it? Lunches! Oops. I have an epiphany, maybe I can get Dominoes to deliver to the school. That’s genius. Why haven’t I ever thought of that before?

I have a half an hour before I need to get my youngest to Pre-K. In the kitchen there has been a cereal explosion, but I casually crunch my way past the table covered with Fruity Pebbles and spilled milk over to the coffee maker. Oh lucky. The container of milk is right here on the counter. And cookies! I shove a few in my mouth without a thought. I should really clean this up I think, and gulp down my coffee while my child dressed like a big doody eats the cereal from the floor.

 The phone rings. It’s my mother. I’m way too busy to answer.

“Let’s get to school, buddy.” I say. “But how ‘bout a catch first?” We leisurely throw the ball on the lawn for a while before I finally get him to school 15 minutes late. A bunch of nursery moms are still hanging around and chatting as I bounce by with him on my shoulders. Wow, one of them has a really nice rack. I can’t seem to stop staring. I feel unusually drawn to her, but realize I’m wearing my pajama tee-shirt with the holes and somehow I forgot to put on a bra this morning. I don’t really feel like socializing anyway, especially after one of the flat-chested moms gave me a strange look when I whipped her daughter up and threw her into the air. I totally thought she was laughing, but turns out the kid cries like a laugh. How would I know that?! I have a strong urge to return to my bathroom and the sports section.

Comfortably seated back on my toilet I think about what I have to do for the day. Gym, supermarket, dry cleaners, I need two birthday party gifts, a school meeting and I must do laundry. Hmmm. None of that sounds like much fun. I’ll definitely do the gym. Maybe I’ll just blow off the rest of it and go hit some golf balls. That’s an awesome idea. I am so Awesome! I think and then realize there’s no toilet paper. “Hey can you bring me some toilet paper?” I yell out, but there’s no one there to get it. I shrug and go back to the newspaper. I’ll worry about it later.

*Putting finishing touches on my week 3 entry now. I’m partnered up with Meredith from www.pilesofbabies.com. She is hysterical and awesome!!! Get ready to vote Wednesday/Thursday at www.writersarethenewrockstars.blogspot.com. Thank you all for keeping me in the game. 🙂 *