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"All the breaks went against us today." "We just didn't play our game." "The referee stole it from us." "Three starters were out -- injuries did us in." "We hit the post twice or we would have won."
To paraphrase the prophet Isaiah, "Woe are we who have to listen to those who thunder forth."
In the sports world, post-loss honesty from coaches often is trumped by empty clichés and defensive whining. These poor souls pressured to take their programs to the proverbial next level by their administrations, fans and boosters resort to Dick-and-Jane-level prose to explain their defeats. One rival, his eggplant-shaped body quivering with righteousness, gave me a 10-minute explanation of how the referee stole the match from him and then after the match apologized for blowing the call. Further, the coach said, the referee told him his sideline bellowing was justifiable.
These post-loss emotional spiels always lack credibility because all coaches view contests with keenly biased eyes. And it's not just the post-loss rant -- how about the postseason rant? It goes something like this: "We were 10-9, but we should have been 13-6. We lost two games in overtime and one on a terrible penalty call." Does anyone ever say the opposite? Well, I'm saying it now -- we were 14-5 last year and should have been 11-8. We beat three teams that I thought were better than us -- two in overtime due to some luck and grit and one because of a questionable call in our favor.
Who, like a shaft of sunlight piercing the gloom, has the integrity to say, "We won, but we were lucky -- they were the better team today," or "the score was an accurate indication of our opponent's superiority"? Displaying the courage to be vulnerable is a wonderful lesson for our student-athletes. I have tremendous respect for those coaches who are confident enough not to have to convince anyone of anything.
I believe that winning is overrated anyway. Three pant sizes and four hairstyles ago, winning obsessed me, ruled me. Now, the urgency has faded. The singular quest for it can only lead to compromised values and in the end, unhappiness. It's more important to teach our student-athletes to prepare with diligence, struggle well on match day and accept the result knowing that they gave their all.
You can't completely control winning or even playing well. The one thing you can control is effort. Effort comes in cycles, and our job is to move players through the low patches quickly. I tell my players that they are successful if they can walk off the field at the end of the match and honestly say they gave everything they had.
There are life lessons that can be taught in defeat: the value of resilience, the opportunity to display class and dignity under disappointing circumstances, and the fact that vigorous preparation, hard work and passion -- while important -- do not guarantee victory. Sometimes losing can be a gift that will make your players stronger, more unified and lead them closer to their potential.
In the past, I have received plaques and certificates for milestone wins, which I have appreciated. Recently, I lost my 100th match as a college soccer coach. To show a bit of perspective, with a piano-key smile and tongue firmly imbedded in cheek, I announced this to my colleagues. Their responses included raised brows and blank stares. A small muscle on the side one of my coaching colleague's mouth began to twitch. No one has a sense of humor when it comes to winning and losing. I'm proud that I've been around long enough to lose 100 matches.
Some heavy doses of humbleness would do all of us coaches some good. We need to reach beyond the low-hanging fruit of the singular-pursuit victory and teach with broader purpose. Experience has shown me that if you run a program holistically, results will come. The coaches I know who are most at peace with themselves have learned that a caring, serving spirit is the conduit of inspiration for their athletes. These coaches display a purity of purpose that enables them to touch their kids athletically, educationally, personally and spiritually. They know they are the decisive element in their players' college experience and treasure this influence. They will find their reward in time, but often (like parenting) the payload is delivered later. Down the road, perspective will kick in and players will realize that being 11-8 or 8-11 is not nearly as important as the values and ideals their coaches taught them.
Our greatest reward as coaches is the joy and satisfaction of impacting young lives. Conversely, the sweet touch our student-athletes have on our lives is our golden prize.
Rick Burns is the women's soccer coach at Gordon College. <
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