I’ve been thinking about sports lately. Partly, this is because college football season is about to begin, which is a big deal in our household. It’s also because one of my children – after practicing hard all summer – didn’t make the middle school sports team she tried out for. I was impressed by her equanimity in the face of defeat. She seemed completely unfazed, ready to keep practicing, and open to the idea of trying out again in the future.
This, I think, is the most important lesson young people learn from sports. How to lose, get cut from the team, or be bested by a worthy opponent … with grace.
I’m reminded of one of my favorite childhood stories.
My sister and I were both on the diving team from late elementary or middle school through college. The team was small, so boys and girls from elementary through high school all practiced together. We even had a few adults learning the sport for the first time. That created was a community where wisdom was passed down and everyone supported one another, mostly through slightly off-color humor.
Cue my favorite story. My family is driving home after a diving meet, when my 11-year-old sister sighs from the back seat, “I’m in the DFL club!” Dad asks, “What does that mean?” She replies, “Dead Freaking Last.” (She didn’t use the word “freaking.”) Coming in last place made you part of a venerable team tradition. It was your chance to join a club that every diver became part of eventually. And that sense of togetherness in individual defeat was truly something to celebrate.
