My son is playing soccer now. It's the 4 year old league - and as he's almost 5, with a late birthday, he's a little bigger than the other kids on his team. Coach Taylor, my coworker at Eleventh Street, says there are two types of coaches: ones who are nurturing and sensitive and the ones who want to win. And the liberal side of me wants the nurturing and sensitive coach - the one who will ease my son into the competitive nature of sports. I want him to enjoy the sport, to like playing, to have a good time. And then there is that hidden monster that has driven me for years - the winning monster. I like to win. I wasn't athletic - but I was academic so I tried to have the best grades in my classes -- I wanted to win in class so much that I would often write down the wrong answer on my paper if I knew someone was copying -- so that they would get it wrong. I'm evil like that.
So, my split personality sat it's fat butt down at the soccer field saturday morning to watch my son play. Our first game was a good game -- and by that I mean we won by a comfortable margin. Sure they don't keep score at this level -- but that doesn't mean that I can't keep score at this level. And Elijah scored a few goals on his own. So, I got to leave with the proud mama, I'm great feeling of being the parent of a child on a winning team. So, when I sat down Saturday morning, I expected more of the same -- no doubt about it, our team would dominate. And then the other team appeared, and they ran us off the field. They kicked the ball better, ran faster, and scored so many times to our not at all that really, I began to see the logic of not keeping score.. it's a loser's logic. So, then I began to make excuses. Oh, these boys must have played before - last season. Oh these boys must be practicing; whereas we've had one practice and 5 games. And I had to fight my disappointment that we'd lost the game, that our team sucked -- because my four year old son, had no idea that he lost -- and lost badly. He just knew the game was over and it was time for the playground. And then, my husband, mr. soccer expert himself, began to critique Elijah's playing, what was wrong, what he should have done, blah blah blah. And I found myself angry -- because we had lost and that last thing I wanted to hear was why we lost. I was in competition while my son was out there playing for fun.
Now, Coach Taylor also says that he won every game while he was in junior high school and that was a good time. And I agree, there is a joy in winning. But for me part of that joy was that I was better than someone else -- and I knew that as the winner, I was supposed to feel bad for the loser, sorry for them because they hadn't won. But I never did. I just felt really pleased for myself. I don't like losing, I don't like my son losing. And after Saturday, I can really see how parents can sometimes become violently angry at sports events. I was entertaining some very nasty, evil thoughts about the soccer mom sitting next to me. And if it weren't for the fact that her son had to be dragged of the field, crying that he would be better, I might have been tempted to kick her water bottle or something. But I didn't have to -- thank you little head strong kid who hits other and wants to play on the playground -- i appreciate your alleviating my need to be nasty.
So, Jose has resolved himself that for now, sports is about being active and moving around - not about winning. But don't let him kid you, I've been seeing little soccer diagrams sitting all over the house as he furtively tries to instruct Elijah on the finer points of the game. My only hope is that we find a balance between the competitive need and the joy of the game. And I suppose that part is called team work, team spirit, sportsmanship -- which for me was largely not crying when I lost and not attacking the winner -- i can only hope that it's better for Elijah than it was for me -- and if I'm being really honest -- I hope it's better because he wins more.
