The Anatomy of Losing

I have had a couple of bad experiences with losing recently. (And one of them I won.) I’m not the world’s worst loser, but I’m not the world’s best either. I have a competitive streak. I'm better than I used to be, but I still have some growing to do. I now longer scream at my partner for a stupid spades play and throw my cards at them. I have mellowed, but I still have some work to do.

The first experience was a card game called hand and foot. I was playing with some friends who play by a few different rules than I do. It was coming down to the end of the game, and I argued about how some points should be counted. My “Mr. Rulebook” (as I am known among some other card playing friends) came out. I was technically right, and I argued my point. But the reason I was arguing was that they were close to going out with enough points, and I wanted to win (they played to 10,000 pts.). I told them they weren’t following their own rules. Than I mentioned they need to be consistent. They said they have always played that way. I ignored the comment on consistency, too busy trying to win the argument. I won the point. They played it my way, very graciously. My team came back and won the next round. But my little debate deflated the whole game. As I thought about it later, I realized I was so busy trying to be right, by manipulating the rules in my favor, that I ceased being loving and friendly and having fun, and robbed others of their fun as well. I won the game, but left feeling like a loser.

The second experience was two Sundays ago. I do not like the Yankees, I never have. I was born in New Jersey rooting for the Mets. I’m allowed to extremely dislike the other New York team. I no longer care for the Mets, but the Yankees dislike has stayed. Now I am a Cubs fan (heart for the underdog, would help explain the Yankee dislike also) but if I was honest, I have more passion routing against those Yankees than for the Cubs. (The Cubs losing their series was disappointing, the Yankees winning one game was infuriating.) A longtime friend of mine, who is a Yankees fan, called during the game. I was fine until the Yankees went ahead. I was miserable when they won the game. I have learned enough to not say much when I am in a bad mood. I end up having to do a lot of apologizing if I do. I didn’t say much, and what I did say was not in the best tone. I did hold my tongue mostly. But my attitude stunk. I had to apologize.

I say all this knowing I am not the only competitive one reading this who passionately roots for my team and likes to win. What is amazing is how much my whole mood can live or die by cards I am dealt in an inconsequential game of chance or by some men I don’t know who wear the wrong uniform. For me, the sting of defeat lasts much longer than the joy of winning.

In my teen years, I remember several incidents involving a series of Super Bowls. The three teams I couldn't stand were the Redskins, 49ers, and Cowboys. Guess who won the Super Bowl 5 straight years in a row. Why did I dislike these teams? They beat the teams I liked, they were favored, and everyone else was rooting for them. One year at a church Super Bowl party, as the Cowboys were spanking the Bills, (the game with the Beebe-Lett fumble for you sports fans) I started ripping into others in my youth group saying some absolutely nasty things about them. A couple years later, the Niners were sticking it to the Chargers. My mom walked by and asked how the game was going. I screamed at her. I don't remember what I said, but my tone of voice was just slightly inappropriate, and I'm sure my words more so. The next year I had learned enough that when I was at a youth group Super Bowl party and the Cowboys were beating the Steelers, I left silently, peeled out of the driveway, and drove home aggressively (thankfully it wasn't that far), and probably punched some poor innocent boxes in the basement when I got there. At least no person had to endure my wrath. The next year when it was the Patriots and Packers, it was a relief. I liked both of the teams. I really didn't care who won. But did I celebrate the victory? No, it was kind of "whatever" for me. I didn't feel the victory. I didn't go around giving undo compliments to people. If my team wins, it only means that everything is as it should be, and I don't celebrate much (exception, 2004 Red Sox, because they overcame almost impossible odds. I only like the Red Sox because of the Yankees, and despite being a Cardinals, routed for the Red Sox in the World Series because I wanted the Yankees fans to have to shut up.)

Losing hurts, but why am I so affected by the "wrong team" winning? When my team loses, it reminds me of all the broken places in my own life where defeat reigns. What losing did in those years was remind me of every dissappointment in my life. I was terrible at athletics, I was not very popular (especially in junior high, high school was better), I felt like a loser compared to so many others. Watching the underdog lose was like watching my own life get run over by those who I thought had it all. Losing seems to draw that out, so the loss is not just a team, it's me. If the "Evil Empire" wins, for some reason my heart connects that to all the injustice, hurt, pain, and difficulty I see in the world, and in myself. I feel that somehow the Yankees are responsible for the Holocaust, Darfur, world hunger, and my lack of a dating life. I know that it's ridiculous, but it is really how I felt. Any place in my life that is not as I would like it to be rises up like a beast, and I feel like a threatened animal and I can take that out on others with hurtful words. Then I walk around for a few days still in a bad mood because of what happened on a field somewhere.

Men especially, if we are honest, is that not true of most of us? What else would explain why there is more domestic violence reported on Super Bowl Sunday than any other day of the year?

I no longer carry around defeat for more than a few minutes (or hours in extreme cases), and I have learned to remind myself of the complete unimportance of sporting events on the outcome of my life. I have learned to turn off the TV if that monster starts roaring in my chest. Sports can’t solve hunger, or racism, or immorality, or bring the gospel to anyone. To live and die by a team winning or losing is to make that an idol. May we learn to feel the pain of real injustice in this world that we can act on instead of the contrived injustice we feel as a result of over glorified athletes playing a game we have no control over.

I still love watching sports, but I have learned that if I really care about the outcome, to watch it alone. For some reason I enjoy it better that way, no one to lash out at if my team is losing, no one to rub it into if my team is winning. I still love playing games, and I may be an annoying rulebook at times, but with the exception of the above story, I will use it against myself as much as for myself. I just want the game to be played right and fair. Although, I will still play to win regardless of the score. Some find that annoying. I find quitting annoying.

-posted to Sanctitatis" by Future of Forestry

P.S. Oh, this year I like the Cowboys and I'm routing for them, but only because Romo is on my fantasy football team. Is that not ridiculous or what? Next year I'll dislike them again.