A Winner's Attitude

It was a must-win game. The semi-final game—a mere formality on the way to the championship. By all accounts, my sons’ team was undoubtedly winning the championship. Everybody knew it. I don’t think anyone came there with another thought. Not the opposing team, not the opposing coach, and not the opposing players. What transpired over the next couple of hours was a multitude of lessons. During the first quarter, the opposing team jumped out to a quick five point lead. With our team starting the game with two of the best players on the bench, we weren’t the least bit concerned about that lead. As the first quarter came to a close, our team had gained momentum. We were looking quite sharp in the opening minutes of the second quarter. That’s when it happened. One of our best defensive players went after a loose ball and fell on his knee. For a moment, it appeared to be business as usual because he’s always diving and jumping and putting his body at risk in order to nab a rebound, break up a play, or steal the ball. This time it was different though. He let out a scream that sent a clear indication that something was seriously wrong. As players, coaches and spectators quickly rushed to his side, their facial expressions showed agony, concern, nervousness, and disgust. Whispers of a “sunken” and “caved-in” knee-cap bounced off the walls of the gymnasium. It seemed like it took an eternity for fire rescue workers to arrive and take him out on a stretcher to the local hospital. The game continued shortly after, but we seemed to struggle for most of the night. Tentative play, missed shots, turnovers, poor defensive execution, and a couple of bad calls left us down by two with seconds remaining on the clock. One of our best shooters launched a three and missed. That’s when it happened. Miraculously, we managed to have the ball with __ seconds on the clock. The team ran a play that left my son wide open and near the basket. He went to the basket, laid the ball up, and it came off the rim. He missed the shot. The team scrambled to get another shot off, but to no avail. The buzzer sounded and the opposing team went crazy. So did the team that was waiting to play our team. They were more excited than the team that had pulled off the upset. My son lay on the court for a few moments and then headed to the bench with his head in his shirt. Parents, coaches, and players from other teams came over to lend support and to remind him that he was one of the best players in the league. “It happens like that sometimes.” “It happened to Patrick Ewing in a finals game.” “You’re the best player out here.” “Keep ya head up man.” “It was just one of those nights.” “Your game was off tonight.” No matter what they said, he kept his head in his shirt. There was no consoling him. He’d let his teammates down.
With the exception being dad providing a few words of encouragement, we drove home from the game in near silence. Back at home, I shared a few thoughts with him. First and foremost, the well-being of his friend was more important than the game. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and reach out to lend support to his friend. (It’s important to put things in prospective.) Next, although his team had lost a game that they were projected to win; he had not lost the game by himself. Each player needed to start the game with a sense of urgency—no matter who they were playing against. It is important to give 110% from the beginning of the game until the final buzzer sounds. No team should ever be taken for granted…especially teams that have nothing to lose. Hustle can beat talent. I advised him not to let the moment define him, but instead to let it be his re-defining moment. I told him that tonight should mark the following “moments”:
• The moment when he decided that he’s going to play harder than ever in every game he plays next season with his varsity team.
• The moment when he decided to work on his game more than ever.
• The moment he decided that he’d get more loose balls, more rebounds, and more steals.
• The moment when he decided that he’d work on going strong to the basket and finishing with his left hand.
• The moment when he became one of the greatest players to play the game.
When he missed that shot and the buzzer sounded, he had to accept a loss. However, failure isn’t final. In times like this, we all have to regroup and find the courage to begin again. Don’t let setbacks steal your confidence. Instead, admit mistakes, learn from them, and MOVE ON!
As he lay on the floor of the gymnasium, I’m sure he thought that the loss was an end of an era for his team. I beg to differ. For him, that game marked the end of an ERROR and the beginning of a new ERA. He’s on his way to greatness, and one missed shot can’t stop that.